Zero
by BlueRetroPenguin
Summary: In a future where human genes can be rewritten, science reigns supreme, and Pokemon are extinct, a boy named Cyprus finds himself forcefully imbued with the power of Ghost Pokemon. Instantly on the run from powerful corporations and dangerous trainers alike, he must attempt to make new allies and gain control his power in an effort to right the world and become the champion: Zero.
1. Exposition

**_Zero_**

**Exposition**

It was many years ago, before anyone of this generation was born, that the Biological Revolution began. Scientist had long been experimenting with the Pokémon genome, attempting to play God through fusion techniques and 'Type Enhancers', procedures that granted the 'gift' of a second or even third type upon any of your favorite standard Pokémon. Water types began breathing fire, and Ghost types were landing hits on Normal Pokémon. The news traveled across each of the four regions (who before had all kept intense treatises of isolation, save between Johto and Kanto), and the breakthrough caused the previously remote island nations to finally open their borders. Hoenn hybrids fought with Sinnoh trainers, those who had conquered both Kanto and Johto went on to complete their badge collection, and soon enough the sectional islands became a collective region known as Issho. Owing to their success in the field of Pokémon biology, the scientists responsible for the treatment were able to found their own commercial enterprise, naming it the Pokémon Enhancement Clinic Association (people found the acronym ironic and decided to pronounce the E as ee, resembling the sound a pure-Pikachu made). These procedures were delicate and as such, expensive, viable only to the trainers of the highest status and deepest pockets. Battling with what were now considered obsolete 'Puremon' was near impossible against the hybrid types, which were deemed perfectly legal by the Pokémon League (even the Elite Fours of each region taking part in the augmentations). Pokémon training became a sport for the rich, an upper-class affair for not only trainers but also serving as entertainment at fancy dinner parties or a back-alley gamble. PECA even went so far as to replace almost all labor with Pokémon; issuing Pokémon that could not only move furniture and deliver mail, but they also managed to teach certain types to speak in intelligible tongues. Pokémon, like the Gardevior, became even teachers and news broadcasters, all of them instilling with message of PECA, that this New World was a better world. And the people listened, believe it or not. Becoming a trainer was no longer an attainable dream for the average growing boy or girl, leaving them with little idea of what to do in a world were Pokémon were once their lackeys. Some rebel groups occasionally rose up, but were quickly dispatched and disbanded by mass Pokémon armies under PECA. A hierarchy ensued, with PECA at the top and the Pokémon-less at the bottom, left to serve menial jobs to the higher ups in a world once rife with Pokémon life.

Until PECA took it further. Seeing the disillusioned lower-class citizens, they pounced upon their weakness for further biological study. In exchange for the promise of a hefty compensation, PECA persuaded the poor into offering themselves as test subjects, saying that, if they succeeded, those who joined would be 'at the very helm of the New World'. Many offered up their services and signed their life away on a single waiver in an effort to make ends meet. These many never returned. No one can conceive the experiments preformed on those desperate souls, and the only thing sent back to the families was a curt letter apologizing for loss of their family member and a check for $250,000. Nothing could be done for them. PECA was law.

Desperation drove many to still offer themselves to the labs even after many did not return home, and eventually people did start coming back. With them, awe-inspiring power. There were those who could breathe underwater, eat fire, or turn their skin to rock. The news became public; PECA had attained the unattainable: In their own hubris they believed they could alter the genetic codes of even humans by inserting within them the genes of Pokémon. They were right.

Once public, the demand for the clinics skyrocketed, gaining sponsorship of every major corporation and scientific field under the scarlet sun and awarding the lab international fame. They even managed to make the modification available to all social classes through harvesting the few Puremon left in the world for their genomes, rumor saying that mass expeditions were sent out to capture even the legendries.

Battling became popular once again to the fight hungry masses. PECA imposed a new system of training; calling it the Enhanced Logistical Insider-Tracker Enumeration system (ELITE rank, for short). During the genome procedure (and eventually, when one was born), they would wire a chip onto the spinal-nervous system that kept up with all of one's stats, from hit points and moves, wins and losses, and most importantly, your rank as a trainer, all connected directly to the brain and wirelessly recorded within the PECA database. ELITE ranks became the standard of every trainer; a win moving you up in the polls, and a loss moving you down. The ELITE Four became the handpicked subordinates of PECA, the leaders of the National Pokémon League of Issho at ranks 4, 3, 2, and 1. To even attempt fighting them required an ELITE rank in the top 100, displayed upon the National Pokémon League Tower. Even now, no one has dethroned the Champion, ELITE rank Zero, and those who have witnessed he or she have been held to a code of silence. Those who did spread rumors… were said to have gone missing.

Playing God came at a price. Harvesting Pokémon meant removing and then copying the genome to their database, a process that assuredly killed the Pokémon. In their pride, PECA deemed Pokémon useless after they had acquired their genome, and considered them merely a waste of space, as humans were the newer, better Pokémon. Due to the demand, they even began harvesting the remaining working class and all the hybrids (some of the last true trainers 'donating' their prized Pokémon in exchange for the procedure). This opened the labor market wide and those at the bottom were thrilled to be able to once again fill in those positions. Everything seeming to go back to normal. The only problem lying in the fact that, due to a failure to put in place any protective measures, PECA propaganda, and general greed, Pokémon were an endangered species. They had faded from the minds of people as having ever been their friends, and soon, became wholly extinct...

It may be thought there would have been a massive out-cry, or even an undercover terrorist group bent on protecting the remaining Pokémon, but Pokémon themselves were not as respected as they once were. Humons became the standard and Normals, those humans without any Pokémon genes or types, were the minority. It was easy to think that this was how it was supposed to be. PECA managed to keep the people totally unaware of the procedure beyond how they intertwined the Pokémon DNA with that of a human without causing gross mutation, usually leaving out the part of the Pokémon's impending death. Being that their very genes were rewritten, the traits were passed onto their children in just the same manner as Pokémon eggs, and after a number of generations, this became standard. This was the New World. PECA was God.

Until PECA took it further…

* * *

><p>"Ah, you have awakened, Mr. Cyprus."<p>

The hazy voice sounds like this is something to be excited about. A groan (I assume from myself) is the only thing he earns in response.

"You've made a magnificent recovery, sir."

I finally muster the energy to squint open my eyes and am immediately blinded by the excessively white room, throwing up a hand to protect my corneas. "Re-recovery?", my mouth testing out whole words now.

"Why, yes, the procedure was a rousing success!", the overly-cheerful voice continues, obviously a young guy, almost studious.

"What are you even talking about?", I manage, sitting up in what seems to be my very own starchy hospital bed, complete with uncomfortably obtuse angle.

"Temporary amnesia is quite common among our recuperating patients. You should make a full recovery of your Temporal Lobe within at most thirty minutes." This piece of news comes from the man standing beside my bed, tablet in hand and a pair of cliché black-rimmed glasses riding low on his nose, a falsely cordial smile plastered on just below that like it's a default setting.

"Couldn't you at least tell me where I am?"

"You are currently located within the PECA Lab Complex J5, Rehabilitation Floor 3, room 27."

Pausing to gauge how serious this guy is, I can't help but ask, "Are you a robot?"

"The only staff allowed to work on the rehabilitation floor is of species Homo-sapiens!"

"Riiiiight." It feels like one of those situations where it's best to just nod repeatedly and agree with the guy, to avoid you yourself going insane. I brush the hair out of my face and stand up out of the bed, my apparent care-taker trailing me as I mosey about the supremely uninteresting room. Located adjacent to the bed is a window overlooking what I presume to be a forest, though the fact it's late at night makes it much more difficult to tell, even with all the fluorescent light given off by the massive complex curving around to form a sort of crescent shaped fortress. Completing the rest of the room is a great mass of empty space, a door on the side wall and a second on the farthest end, an unassuming painting of some boring hills sprucing up the remaining wall, and a little (I assume plastic) potted plant taking up residence in the farthest shady corner of the room. All in all, a spectacularly dull place to be, with not even a piece of modern technology in sight.

"How do you feel? Are you fatigued? Do you recognize any soreness? Illness? Nausea?", my stalker implores repeatedly.

"Look, leave me alone. I gotta use the bathroom." Seeming as if the one refuge I have from this freak, I lock myself in and his constant inquiry out.

_What a joke._

The bathroom is just as dismal as the rest of the place, all shiny and clean.

_God, why can't I remember anything? _

I splash some water on my face to calm my nerves.

_Dark. Smelly. The water is cold and gross, but it's all we have._

A memory surfaces, something as simple as cleaning my face causing a vision of a crummy bathroom in my head. To my disgust, that bathroom feels like… home.

_This sucks. _I think and look up.

Nothing.

Well, not really nothing. I can see the rest of the bathroom, the trash bin and toilet directly behind me included. Wait, behind me?

Nowhere within the mirror is my reflection. Touching the pane, it's cold and equally as life less, but none-the-less real. It's a highly eerie sight, but I refuse to let this get to me. Something else must be wrong.

I open the door and of course my predictable companion is still smiling at me. "Hey, doc, I think something's wrong with your stuff."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean your mirror doesn't work or something."

"Mr. Cyprus, every product within the confines of PECA Lab-"

"Just get in here", I say to him and roughly take him by the sleeve  
>Now this is awkward. Two grown men in a one person bathroom together. I shove the thought out of my mind; I have a point to prove. "See, doesn't reflect jack" , I tell him as I wave at the mirror.<p>

But looking back at me, reflected just fine, is the excited Doctor Whoever, his smile about to break his face. "Oh my! What an exciting fruition!", he chirps and feverishly types onto the tablet he's cradling.  
>"Wait, <em>What<em>!?"

"An interesting effect of the mutation, something so simple but in observation quite thrilling. Here, could you hold this?", I find myself dumbly clutching a pen for him as he pecks away at the tablet. "Fascinating! Subject himself remains invisible while interacting with foreign objects!"

"_Excuse me? SUBJECT?",_I roar at him, tossing away his stupid pen.

"Please don't take that in a derogatory manner, sir. You see, you are the product of a prodigious scientific achievement!", Interpreting my silence as validation to continue speaking, he does. "You have been selected to participate in the pioneering of a modern bio-technological apex!"

It finally clicks in my head what he said. _PECA Labs..._

_No._

"Excuse me? Sir?"

"No."

"No what, sir?"

"I'm not your damn lab rat", I growl at him.

"That is absolutely correct sir, for you are of species homo-sapiens, and-"

"Shut the hell up."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not going to be your anything", I say as I stalk past him, heading for the door.

"Sir, we merely endeavor to aid you in finding your true potential! Do not you wish to help in the forward progress of science?"

I stop at the frame.

"What did you do to me?" It comes out as barely a whisper.

"What do you say, sir?"

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" It's a scream now, coming off like the cry of dying animal. Mr. Fancy-Science-Pants takes a step back.

"You-you're obviously still not feeling well, Mr. Cyprus", he stammers, attempting to diffuse some emotional mine he's found himself on. "How about we go obtain some nourishment, over which I can exp-"

"I was Normal, before." The words cut him off, but of course he continues.

"Yes, it's in your records."

"Did you ever think, for just a goddamn second, that maybe I wanted to stay that way?" Knives, more than they are words, coming from my mouth now.

"Wh-why would you want that, sir? W-we live in an age where we can be anything we want. The age-"

"Would you shut up for just one second and think maybe you should have , I don't know, ASKED?"

"Well… sir…", he acts like he's caught in some elaborate snare, maybe one he built himself. "It… honestly… wasn't our choice."  
>"What'd you mean by <em>our?<em> Because it certainly was your fucking choice", I spit at him, not even all the way turned around to face him.

"N-not mine precisely, sir. In all truth, Cyprus, sir, it was not of your choice whether the procedure be executed or not."

"What?", This is when I turn to face him. This is when I turn to look down at the trembling coward of a man, shielding himself in a bathroom. This is when I see the person telling me that I am now only partially human.

"Could we, perhaps, discuss this later?", he stutters pathetically.

"No." I survey him calmly, sizing him up. Before he can blink again, I push him into the wall and hold him there, his tears rolling down my knuckles.

"Pl-pl-please, Mister Cyprus, do not do anything you will regret", he cries out, an utter mess now.

"I won't. Now tell me WHY AM I HERE?"

"You-you're parents… gave you to us" he chokes out through sobs, "They... you were all so… poor… they needed… the money."

_They gave me away?_

Nothing came through my head. Not a single image. I couldn't remember them. Who were my parents? How long have I been here? When did it happen? A month ago? A week? _Yesterday?_

_For money?_

"WHEN?" I don't mean to yell at him, but I do.

"I-I-I don't know! It wasn't in-in the records! I'm just the overseer is-is all! That's all I am!"

Attempting the remain calm, I get across one more question. "What then? What am I?"

"The-they kept th-that classified. All that is said is that you're the first Gh-gh-ghost type… to live."

Isn't that special.

"Listen, Mister. I don't care about your research, or science, or anything regarding PECA whatsoever. All I want is to leave. Now, I can see two ways of doing that, and only one of them includes you alive."

Judging by my apprehension to even choke the guy, I doubt I've ever killed someone before, and I don't plan on starting now. It proves too much for the guy though, as he passes out right under me.

"Shit, he's more useless than I thought", I mutter, and bend down to review what he's got on him. Nothing. Literally nothing but the clothes on his back. His tablet lies beside him; maybe I should take that. Seeing as this place appears to be at the 'modern bio-technological apex' (what a pretentious fuck), it's possible everything can simply be transmitted through that thing. There's no time for me to start playing around on the thing, so I take it in hand and then look to see where on my person I can put it- and find myself in a pearly white jumpsuit. _Argh, just great. _Searching under the bed produces a small cubby with what I can only guess to be the same pair of clothes I came in with; a plain black-T and some dark jeans. _How stylish I must've been _I crack at myself and change before taking up the tablet again. It was about a foot wide and half as long, a totally unhelpful shape._ I'll just carry the damn thing._

What if there are guards though? I need a weapon other than my fist. A reloot of Mr. John Doe brings up nothing, so I stand and look at the mirror. It's like it's mocking me in its reflectionless glass. I never wanted to be like this. I didn't ask for it. Even in this world, like it is, where being some sub-human freak is normal, is _desired_, I can only feel in my heart, even without memories, I didn't want this. I hate it. I hate this mirror. I HATE IT.

**SMASH**

Glass clinks to the ground. A speck of blood follows the shards down. I look into the broken mirror. I look down at the broken glass…

* * *

><p>"He's leaving Ward A. Subject appears to be in possession of an overseers KeyPad. He has access to the minimum security Blocks and Transporters. What should we do?"<p>

"Move the girl."

"Wha-where?"

"You know what, I'll just do it myself."

"Then what about the Subject, sir?"

"Get some guards stationed on the other Floors. Cover the Transporter doors with them."

"Shouldn't we just move in?"

"Though the subject has failed to go through any training, he should still be considered highly dangerous post-operation. Evacuate the floor he is on. Guerrilla tactics are our best option."

"Yes-"

"Remember, above everything else, no matter what the cost, he must be kept _alive"_

"Yes sir, Doctor Vincenzo."

* * *

><p>"Entering Ward C, Mr. Smith."<p>

That was apparently the guy's name. Just as equally boring as he was himself.

Turns out I was at least right about the tablet thing being the key to, well, everything it seemed. Some sort of wireless signal I'd assume, just like every other thing here. I haven't touched another door since I got out of that room.

_Man, this place it eerie. _It was ridiculous to complain about there being no one else on the floor in my situation, but that didn't change my feelings about how creepy it was to walk in the world's most powerful laboratory and it be completely empty. I mean it was obvious there had been many_ many_ people here at one time or another, judging by the sheer number of rooms identical to mine there were, hallway after hallway, but it was closer to a ghost town than a lab ward.

_Let's just find the elevator and get out of here._

Maybe it really was empty and I could just walk out. Or at least blend in until I put some distance between me and this god-forsaken place.

_Am I just going to waltz out?_ It was so weird. There was nothing right about this.

I would have missed it if I hadn't stopped zoning out; a set of double doors right down the hall. An elevator. The doors open the moment I come within five feet of it and let me in. (More drab white. Man, who was the interior designer for this place?)

"Entering Transporter 14, Mr. Smith. Which floor would you like depart on?" Even the A.I. is formal here. "Uhhh, lobby, I guess", barely able to imagine there being something as hospitable as a lobby here. "One."

"Descending to floor one", the room itself speaks to me and then goes silent. I can't even tell if I'm moving, it's so light. _How strangely comforting. _Just maybe-

"Freeze!"

The doors slide open, and two gun sights make eyes at my chest as I try to exit the elevator. _Shit. _

"We have been ordered to take you in alive, S-level being Cyprus. We have been authorized to use force. Step outside of the Transporter with your hands up", The taller, broader of the two men enunciates for the both of them. I need time to think. I need to stall.

"S-level, huh? What's that stand for, anyway? Supreme? Super? Sexy?", I leer at them from the safety of the elevator.

"We do not have time for games here, Scum", My verbal opponent smiles at his own pun, backed up by the grunt of his partner. A round of verbal jousting begins.

"Oh, so you're like the janitors here then, am I right?"

"Maybe if you weren't so filthy."

_Grunt_

"Isn't there some handbook you guys have to follow that says to treat patients with courtesy or something?"

"What'd you want, a cup of tea? I never heard of serving no dirty lab rat."

_Grunt_

This is bad. I'm losing hard and I still haven't thought of anything…

"It seems you have not departed, Mr. Smith. Would you like to travel to a different floor?", the room chimes in at just the right moment, freezing the two in place.

"Yes!" I cry out "Top floor!"

"You only have access to-"

"JUST GO!", I shout, and the doors begin to quickly slide together. Broad Shoulders dives forward with a hand to stop the doors, and I break the tablet over his fingers, causing him to release his grip and it slides to a close. _So much for that_ I think, but am just happy to have somehow managed to avoid that catastrophe. Seeing as my pseudo-skeleton key was now in shambles, the screen shattered and obviously non-operational, it seemed like this would be my last stop.

_There's only going to be more._ I think and sigh. Here goes nothing.

* * *

><p>"Freeze!"<p>

A whooshing sound accompanies the doors coming apart, the accompaniment to that being silence and the total darkness of the elevator. No light streamed from its recesses. One guard glances at the other; obviously two rookies whose bad luck seems to be have them detaining what they were told was a 'monster of unspeakable power'. They were also told it was sixteen. Though the two bits of information didn't seem to match up, they still had to hold in from wetting their pants as they entered the seemingly empty, obviously dark elevator. It had smashed out the light. What if the monster's power was invisibility? How were they supposed to defend against that? Why didn't they have a flashlight?

At least, that's what was on their faces as one entered the darkness, followed by the other. "Entering Transport 14, Mr. Park and Mr. Clark. What floor would you like to depart on?"

"Wha-?"

"Floor one!"

Both men more than likely felt a breeze as I dived past them off the elevator, and watching their dumb-struck faces as it slid shut was enough to make me feel good about myself again._ Those things are stupidly spacious._

Back to business. I kept my glass shard in one hand and the tablet in the other, and though I held it with purpose, I really didn't want to have to resort to using the makeshift shank; I couldn't imagine taking on more than one guy at a time besides that anyway. For some reason I kept the tablet, maybe because whatever Mr. Smith had put on it was technically still there, and that felt demeaning in itself, so there was no way I'd just hand it back to them that easily. Trophy of war.

That didn't change the fact I was now God knows where with no knowledge of whether there even was a way back down besides the 'Transporters'. _This-_

"Stop right there!"

On the move again. All I could perceive as I ran was the endless blur of white hallway and thundering footsteps behind me, never getting closer nor farther, and I tried to lose them, turn corners, but then there'd be more, four, five, six guards now tailing me as a breathed and heaved and my feet hit the ground with a slap each time that echoed and pounded in my ears and then-

A girl.

Around the corner.

I almost run into her.

I stared deep into her eyes.

Got lost in them.

She stared at me.

Opened her mouth.

"Cy…"

"STOP RIGHT THERE!

Reality check brings me back into gear, and thoughts started piling in. I did a double take of the girl, and then of the nearing guards, and then of the girl again.

_This sucks._

With one fluid motion I grab the girl and clutch her body to mine and bring the mirror shard to her throat.

"Stop right there!", I yell back at them, holding the girl hostage. I can't see anything about her but the green hair cut short around her neck to which I press the glass against flawless smooth white skin. She begins to tremble and then burst into tears to which I steel myself.

_Is this really necessary? _But looking back at the many faces staring down at my through gun cross-hairs, I give myself no choice. This is my final bluff.

"Drop your weapons!", I yell at them.

They don't move. More guards come from the left and right hallways now, cornering me on three sides, my back against the wall. There must be twenty of them.

"I SAID DROP THEM!", and I roughly pull the girl harder against me. Her crying becomes howls as she blabbers nonsense, and one of her tears falls onto the glass, reflected against it. The guards look at each other and slowly set down their handguns. Their weapons are like nothing I've seen before; intricate black barrels with glowing patterns across them that are illuminated in neon purple, reaching toward a dial on the hilt. I can't really trust my memories though if these are some new weapons tech or another part of my amnesia.

My musing is cut short by my hostage's pleas, now forming words.

"P-p-p-plea-please st-st-stop this!"

She can't be any older than I am. What if she's another one like me? What if they're experimenting on her too? And now, someone like her, someone who is supposed to be on her side, is holding a blade to her throat. Waves of regret overtake me. _I can't do this. _

"D-d-don't fight…"

She doesn't even sound like she's pleading for herself. It's like she's pleading for all of us…

_I have to end this myself._

I-

"Well played, Cyprus."

The group of guards in front of my immediately spins around and stands at attention, parting around a single man who walks between them as if he repels- no, merely exudes a different aura that others feel obligated to give more space to. He is a tall; abnormally tall; man, in a long white lab coat accentuated by red seams and outline. His pants are an odd forest green, and his shoes black and shiny, as if he polished them right before he walked up to me, though he gives the impression he'd always be one to have someone else to polish them for him. Navy blue hair was spiked on his head like an electric shock had also happened upon him recently, but it suited him as it hid none of his stony complexion that gave the impression of wisdom and age without any traces of fragility that usually accompanied such traits. In all, he was built like a stone wall, but was obviously smarter than one.

Something told me, call it fate or intuition, that he was my true enemy.

"Truly, I am impressed you made it this far, Cyprus. I knew you would be talented, but honestly most don't escape within their first day. I should rephrase that; honestly, no one escapes." He stepped nonchalantly closer, and I found myself hitting the wall without even realizing it. My grip tightened, but the girl wasn't even crying anymore, instead totally transfixed on this beast of a man.

"Don't come closer", I growled, surprising even myself.

"Fine, but can I do this?", he asks, raising one of those guns to my face, glowing white. I can feel my blood stop pumping.

"Here's something else I can tell you honestly. I really don't care what you do with that girl there. So don't act like that's going to change anything." His finger grips the trigger, just to prove he isn't here to play word games.

"Doctor Vincenzo-"  
>"SHUT UP!" He roars at the outspoken guard, never looking away from us.<p>

_What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?_

"You had a lot of promise, Cyprus. You could have been my favorite, honestly. And I'll tell you something else; I've done a lot of work here. Seen a lot of patients. So that's saying something." Doctor Vincenzo, his name would seem to be, says that like we've always known each other, been here, all our lives.

"It's just too bad you had to go and screw it all up."

Maybe he's just toying with me. Maybe he sees the fear in my eyes. Maybe –

He shoots

The wall behind me explodes and

I fall

* * *

><p><em>So concludes the first chapter of <strong>ZERO!<strong>_

_Honestly, tell me what you guys think! Did I over explain? Under explain? Truest apologies for all the exposition that'll have to be a thing for the first few chaps, but thats sort of a thing when creating an entire new area and time to base yourself off of. More will be revealed in the future (along with the identities of the main characters, spirit Pokemon wise, at which point I'll update the characters included in the description OTHER THAN OC), but constructive criticism is always appreciated. Even anyone uber familiar with the Pokemon universe gens 1-4 to be a Beta reader would be totally welcome!_

_Cya ~ BRP_


	2. Getting Somewhere

**_Zero_**

**Chapter 2 – Getting Somewhere**

I never got to appreciate how spectacularly tall this building actually was until now. Considering it, as we hurled toward the forest below at terminal velocity, it might not have been the best idea to 'escape' to the top floor. At the least, it gave me time to think about my impending, agonizing doom, and not just mine; the girl I never got to actually meet was screaming as I held her around the waist. Maybe I could break her fall with my own, the least I could do for putting her life in such danger.

Who am I kidding? We're both so dead.

_Hell, how tall is this building anyway_? _This is_ _what I get for flying around that building like a mad man, stealing girls and shit. _It's not fair that I had this much time to regret everything up to this point. Maybe it was just mind karma, torturing me by making it feel like longer than it really was. Minutes seemed to pass, and the building seemed to slow down, and even the girl seemed to stop screaming. It took me moments to realize, but we weren't falling any more. We were floating.

Slowly, the canopy of tree limbs reached us and took us into their arms. Leaves gently rubbed against us and down our arms as we're carefully cradled onto one of the sturdier branches of the tree, it letting out a creaky sigh as gravity sets in again.

We were strangely, oddly, wonderfully alive.

"How…?", I breathed out the word, accidentally right into the girl I was still holding's ear.

"G-g-get – GET AWAY FROM ME!", she cries out and hurdles away from me- right out of the tree. To my surprise, she lands with perfect grace and sprints away into the recesses of the shadowy forest.

_I didn't even get to know her name_ I think. Not that I can really blame her. It's probably for the best anyway, to work this out separately. Putting aside the complete fluke of our guts not getting splattered against the dirt, there was still the matter of finding civilization. And then… what? Would we- well, it was just I now- be running away from PECA all my life? No, they probably thought we were dead. That gun looked pretty-

Wait! I flail in the tree limbs as I remember the gun shot, throwing my hands up to my face, my chest, everywhere. There was no bullet hole. There was no evidence I had gotten shot at all. But I felt it go through me. The force had caused us both to fall, even. The wall had even exploded!

How the hell was I NOT dead?

Survived gun to the face. Check. Survived what would seem to be a fall from twenty plus stories high. Check. Lose only possibility of friendship in a mile radius. Double check.

I sigh and lean against the trunk of the tree. Understanding this all was hopeless. It was like, after coming out of that coma, I started living in one of those cheesy fantasy worlds where the characters survived pianos to the face. Though this seemed all too real, unless, of course, it was all just a dream. _It'd be just like me to dream up some f-ed up shit like this._

Just in case this isn't all a dream though, I hop down from the tree and start trying to formulate a plan on the walk away from the complex. The mirror shard and the tablet were still in my possession, both items seeming useless at this point, but they were better than nothing. I could follow the footprints of my previous 'hostage', though that flag didn't lead to any good endings in my mind. That left me with simply walking until I found normal, wherever that may be._ Maybe this place is their secret lab or something?_ This theory was plausible considering how urban the small regions had each become in the course of the recent boom in population, probably due to faith in the national economy ever since PECA became a partner with overseas investors. My amnesia was terribly selective, allowing me access to common knowledge like the history of Issho and how to move my legs still, but failed aid me in figuring out where in the blazes I was. All I knew was that expansive forests like this weren't at all common in Issho.

What was I going to do food, anyway? Water? What if I couldn't find anywhere and I needed shelter? What if-

_rustlerustle_

Movement behind me. Where I just left. It can't be an animal, right? Pokemon are all dead. No, what if-

_'copy that, sir_.'

No, definitely human, and a good bit away too. They must've figured out we hadn't been remade into shishkababs amongst the tress and were coming to do it right this time. Blood boils in my veins. _Why can't they just leave us alone?_ Natural instinct kicks in though, and I immediately take off into the woods. My lungs still burn from the earlier escape attempt, my legs stiff and fiery, but I've survived too much at this point for it to end here.

_What about the girl?_

Damn brain, always gotta make me feel guilty for just wanting to live. But I change trajectory and make for the direction she took off from earlier, hoping no one else has reached her…

There, I hear something else. Something like… crying? Following the source, I come across my previous companion, out in a pretty expansive opening considering the density of this place, huddled at the base of another tree. Before I even round the corner, roots of the tree shoot up out of the ground and catch my wrists, holding me in place.

"Hey, hey, hey! It's just me!", I cry out, but on review realize this statement would be the very reason for her hostility. My bonds loosen though, receding back into the earth, and I'm left with the girl looking up at me, puffy eyed. She says nothing, and I find myself staring at the face I didn't get to take in earlier. I'm staring because, besides the fact that she's been crying, she's actually quite beautiful. (_All girls look good in moon light, genius_ but I tell that side of my mind to shut up). Indeed, even in this light she obviously has shiny green hair, not a blinding green but like a light green you'd see on the back of leaves. Combining this with what I just witnessed, it's not crazy to assume she's a Grass-type. For some reason, she isn't in a jumpsuit but in normal clothes, tight pink pants and a simple V-neck white-T, I think.

_When did I start caring about what other people wore?_

Another thing I manage to take in is how totally fragile she looks; even though it's obvious she could probably tear me apart if she felt.

_Then again, when did I care about other people?_

She's still looking at me, like she's waiting for me to give a reason for my interrupting her cry session. Oh, ya.

"They're coming."

As if on cue, the rustling sound in the distance commences. Mystery girl's eyes open wide and she stares at me, but not even in a panicky way. More like she's surprised to me see me at all.

"We're in danger", I say, and realize she probably already knows that. "We need to move."

But she doesn't. Actually, she doesn't even blink but just keeps staring at me, and it starts to creep me out. We can hear them closing in now.

"Now!", I yell at her and grab her hand, making a mad dash for the cover of the forest. If we're lucky, we could find a cave and-

"No."

I lose grip on her hand as she falls short behind me. The girl has stopped, and is still looking at me with that cold stare. For a moment, I think it's because she doesn't trust me, but then- "We can't run from them."

_rustle_

"What!?", I hiss at her. "What are we supposed to do? They tried to kill us!"

_rustlerustlerustle_

"We have to go back", she says calmly.

_RustleRustleRustleRustle_

"Are you crazy? We can't even—!"

No sooner can I finish my sentence than armed soldiers burst out and surround us, closing the both of us off from the potential of running. To my dismay, the girl still manages to be absolutely calm now, as if this is what she planned for. How can she go from crying one minute to being totally fine with having multiple guns pointed at her the next? Maybe they screwed her up more than I thought.

"You have ten seconds to surrender and come peacefully!", a burly guard barks at us. "If not, we'll just splatter your brains right here!"

"Now what?", I harshly whisper at her, trying to gauge how bad off we were this time. Analysis: Doomed.

"Use your powers", she says simply.

"_Would you please say something that made sense_?", I almost yell at her this time.

"Whatever do you mean?", she keeps talking to me like this is just some class we're in together and not our last words. "Now is the time to use their _science_ against them." It's the first thing she's said that actually has some emotion to it, and I'd almost be impressed, if we weren't, ya know, about to die again again.

When I don't respond immediately, she looks over to see my totally dumbstruck face, and her eyes go wide, but this time it's different. This time it's truly fear.

"FIVE SECONDS."

"You… don't know?"

"Look, girl, we really don't have time for this right now, like, _at all._ Let's just do whatever they want and-"

"Never", she says defiantly. "I'm never going back there again."

"It's that or die! Right here, _right now_!"

"There are fates worse than death", she says in such a small, sad voice, that I wonder for a moment if she may be right. I look back at the guns trained on us. If we went back this time, I don't think they'd give us the same warm welcome as Mr. Smith.

"What do we do?", I whisper back to her, but she doesn't answer. Instead, her eyes are closed, her hands put together, as if in the deepest concentration.

"ONE!"

I hear her in my head before she even says it.

_Confusion._

"CONFUSION!", she cries out, a pink aura swallowing her whole body before exploding outwards, the wall of psychic energy passing right through me but ramming smack into the soldiers. They're all knocked on their backs and the beam continues to roll out into the forest, slowly dissipating from our sight. Moaning comes from the guards, none of them moving to get up.

The girl opens her eyes and relaxes. "Ok, now we can go", she says.

"Holy crap, what did you do to them?", I ask, still staring at the twenty plus soldiers lying on the ground now.

"Do not worry, I merely knocked them unconscious", she says, like this is something she's done every day. She slowly treads over to where they lay and crouches over one, looking into his face. "They, sadly, will be fine.", Skeptical, I come up beside her, but she was right. The eyes may be shut, but they were all still breathing.

"How'd they find us so fast?", I say under my breath, though from her silence, she doesn't really know either. Looking at her now, I can't believe this small girl just wiped out an entire militia with one blow. She's almost dainty, really, like some fine china without a single scratch-

And then I see it on her neck, just below the hairline. An incision, scarred over now, right on her spinal cord.

"The chips", I breathe, dawning on me.

"Excuse me?", she says, turning to look up at me.

"They put ELITE trackers in us, didn't they?"

"Yes, of course, it was part of-"and she sees where I'm going with this.

"They can find us with those, right?

"Those have only been known for energy regulation and ELITE data, though" she says, but it comes off like she doesn't even have faith in herself anymore.

"You don't really believe them, do you?"

The look she gives me tells me there's more to that statement than I can really understand.

_Well, isn't this great_. Getting tracked by the world's strongest commercial superpower through objects planted directly into my body wasn't exactly what I planned for I'm sure, but it looks like we'll have to make due.

"We have to cut them out." I finally say, taking out the mirror shard from my pocket. My friend (I suppose that's what she is, at least for now) stands up immediately and backs away. "N-n-no, please, that isn't necessary."  
>Woah, where'd the macho heart-less act go? Now all that's left is a girl who looks like she'd be afraid of even paper cuts.<p>

"No, it is necessary", I continue forcing the subject. "You know they have more men probably tracking us right now, and if we don't move, they're going to find us _again_. And as much as you seem to have control of the situation, I think it'll make it a hell of a lot easier for us and a hell of a lot harder for them if we got rid of these things."

"Th-there has to be another way!" she blubbers at me, already back to tears. _Geez, who even are you?_

Exasperated, I turn around and attempt to do it myself. But feeling around along my neck, I can't even tell if I have a scar, much less where it is. It's obvious this is going to be much harder than I thought.

Turning back to my friend, I decided to at least see if I can coax her into the idea. Earn her trust.

"I never got your name" I try to say as casually as possible.

She looks over me for a moment, like giving me her name might get _too _personal, but finally she mumbles, "Celia".

"Huh. I like it."

She stays silent, not even bothering to ask mine. _Sigh._ Alright, phase two.

"Look, Celia. I'm sorry for earlier. The whole, um… thing from before." I motion at the building a little ways behind us. Celia doesn't stop staring at the ground. "I really am. I was stupid. Stupidly desperate to get out of that place. But it seems to me I wasn't the only one who wanted out." I pause to see if this gains a response. Nothing.

"Now, the way I see it, we- no- _I_ need you in order to stay alive. I mean that we need to work together, at least until we get into the city, alright? I know it's not exactly the best apology or anything, but I'd much rather you not thinking I'm going to kidnap you again. Or hating me. At least temporarily."

"I don't hate you, Cyprus."

"How do you already know my name?"

With how quickly her face snaps up, it's almost like she's made some tragic miscalculation, but then eases up and says "Dr. Vincenzo said it, did he not?"

"Oh ya… I guess he did."

Well, this got awkward again. It's not like I can ask, _Why don't you hate me_ or something like that, and it's not like I want to bring up to whole cutting into each other thing again, but fortunately I don't have to. Sighing, Celia walks over and to me and takes the mirror shard out of my hand.  
>"You first", is all she says.<p>

Sitting down on the ground so she can reach me, she kneels and brushes the hair off my neck. After a minute of feeling nothing, I say ,"Well? Don't I have one, too?"

"Ya… you do…", she says softly. It's not like I enjoy this anymore than she does, but I'd rather her than them.

"Come on, I promise I'll be a big boy about it."

I'm not surprised by her silence, but I am surprised when I feel the cold blade on my neck. Trembling, she presses into skin, I doing my best to not move or make any noise at all. I can't have her chickening out now. A little blood trickles down my back, but that's all I can really take notice of as I clench my fists against my legs to try and keep quiet. It's not too bad, but it's not comfortable either. Well, to be honest, _it's really uncomfortable_, but whatever.

Finally, a gasp escapes Celia's lips, and she stammers, "I-I-I see it!"

"Then get out!, I snap at her, more harshly than I intend to. I can tell she's hesitating though and hiss, "What is it?"

"Aren't these connected to your central nervous system or something?"

"I. Really. Wouldn't. Know", I say to her.

"What if it…"

Of course she's immediately considering the worst case scenario. "Just smash it then."

"Are you-"

"DO IT!"

With bated breath, she cuts into the little box. Shocks wrack my body for just a moment, a feeling not unlike smashing your 'funny' bone against the edge of the table, but just doing it multiple times over. Celia cries out and hurdles away from me, but I just look over at her and put on my best possible I'm-OK-smile. "See. Fine."

I give her a second to catch her breath before saying, "Now you."

It takes much longer than it should to eradicate the tracker from her body as well, as she squirms and pulls away and squeals every time I start in on the cut, and I start to worry that they're going to find us again before we get this done. I don't know whether I should try to comfort her or just try to get the job done quick as possible, but something tells me she wouldn't find the guy with the bloody shank in his hand very comforting right now.

"There, I see it!", I am finally, _finally_ able to say. For something that's supposed to have the processing power of a super computer, this thing is tiny. Just a little black box, not even a centimeter tall and only a few wide with the distinctive _P _ logo etched onto it. _How does this thing even work?_ I muse, but seeing as that isn't the task at hand, I sink the blade gently into the insignia. _Almost enough to be revenge_ I crack as it sparks for single moment. Celia sails away from me, clutching herself and shivering from the ordeal.

_What's her deal? _I think. I mean, it's not that traumatic, and now the rest of our ride will be soooo much easier I think.

"_Now_ we need to move." Standing up, I offer her my hand as well, feeling like the very least I can do. It feels like a treaty of some sort, as if she taking my hand would show we really are on the same side here. We've practically made a blood oath, as it is.

But she refuses. "We shouldn't stay together."

"What? Why not?"

"I… I think that we'll be… easier to track down if-"

"You're a terrible liar."

"Shut up!", She yells at me, eyes flaring pink, and I retract my hand. Personally, I'm not feeling like joining our soldier friends over there. The color in her eyes quickly fades away though, and she just heaves out a long sigh.

"I'm sorry, Cyprus."

"You don't have to apologize", I say simply, looking up and away from her. "Serves me right."

The silence is broken by her again.

"I can only assume you don't have your memories either?" Even how she pronounces words is lady-like, saying either like 'eye-there'.

"You would be right there", I say bluntly. Surprisingly, she curses under her breath. This does elicit me to look back down at her again, eye-brow raised. "Woah, I didn't know it was a personal question. They said they'd come back in…", trailing off there, I realize it's had to be more than thirty minutes or whatever Mr. Smith said.

"Do _you_ trust them, Cyprus?", she says coldly, and then looks back down at the dirt.

"Are you telling me you don't have yours?"

It's like she doesn't even hear me. "It's just… I've seen you before."

I decide to follow her down wherever she's going with this. "That's not a big surprise. We were in _there_ at the same time, I guess. You probably just saw them bringing me in." _Or whatever they do. _

"In my dreams."

If I could move my eye-brow up any further, I would. I opt instead to get the second one in on this action.

"Dreams are pieces of our memories, right?", she keeps going, not even strictly to me, doing that thing again. "Even if we cannot consciously recall them, they exist, subconsciously. Our dreams simply organize them, isn't this right?"

"I mean, I'm no expert on the subject", I respond to her theorizing. I've never been big on hypothetical situations or 'space time' mumbo-jumbo, but anything goes to stay on this one's good side. "That still doesn't rule out you just seeing me around. I mean, how long have you had those dreams? A week?"

"Three years."

I can't help it; I stare. "How long have you been here?"

"Three years" she says quietly.

"And your memories go back too…?"

We're both silent. _No way_. There's no way I came here anymore than even a week ago, much less likely a month. But I can't have been here _years_. Then that only means…

"We must've knew each other in our past", she says for me.

"Ok… that's fine and all I suppose. It's good to meet you again, Celia." I put out my hand once more for her to take, but she immediately shoots it down with a steely glare. _You shouldn't be allowed to look attractive _and _hardcore like that._

"Look, what's so bad about knowing each other before? We could've been friends or something, and this is great reunion!"

"I _always_ kill you in them."

_Ooooooohhhh._

I look at her. She looks at me.

_chirp chirp_

"How?", I ask hesitantly. _Do I really want to know the answer to this?_

"We really shouldn't go into detail on the subject", she says. "It's just best if we… don't have to go there."

"Do you want to kill me?" Another question I might not like the answer to.

"_No_." Looks like that were the ones that always made me feel more closely related to cockroaches than apes. "If I had _wanted _ to kill you, don't you think I could've done that by now?"

Dark forest. Remote area. Dozens of unconscious people beside me. Good point.

_Chop Chop Chop Chop_

Wait, that definitely isn't crickets. We both look into the night sky at the same time and witness, well, exactly what we should've seen coming. A rather large Chopper sails in over us, shining down multiple spotlights and blowing the trees apart. On one hand, I'm elated our idea about the trackers worked, seeing as their having to manually search for us, but on the other hand, that won't matter if we don't start moving again. "Just come on!", I yell at Celia, and run into the forest, anywhere away from the oncoming search party.

Now, she could have easily at that point ran away from me. Just disappeared into some other brush, and judging from the density of this place, I never would've even noticed while I was running away from our pursuers. But for some reason, when I looked behind me, there she was, right on my heels.

Running for our lives again gave me time to think. Did I really _want _crazy girl who dreams about killing my on a semi-normal basis to be following me? It was obvious though that we had a common enemy, as well as the fact she knew a whole lot more about the situation I was in than I did myself, specifically about PECA and the powers the procedure granted us. Having no memories also ailed me with not being able to recall any ELITE Trainer battles I'd seen, but I could still recall what all the types were. _And you still remembered about the ELITE tracker._ How bad is this amnesia thing? It's like it just choose what to forget…

"Cyprus!", Celia cries out to me.

"What?", I yell back to her, making sure she isn't in any danger.

"We can't leave this place yet!"

"Why not!?"

The woods blend together in the same way the hallways did earlier. I don't get a response quite immediately as we bound over broken down trees and thick branches covering the forest floor. _Couldn't she just clear this up with her Grass moves?_ I think. But then again, she has to be a Psychic, too, so what spirit Pokemon carried both those types… I can't process it while we're both gunning it like this, my brain too hopped up on adrenaline. Maybe I can ask later. If even she knows. They didn't tell me what type I was, some crazy Ghost thing. But they have to have told her after three years. Or, at the least, she looks like the kind who could figure it out herself.

"-memories!" I snap back to reality and hear her cry over the thunderous roar of the Chopper engine.

"What!? I didn't hear you!"

"WE HAVE TO GO GET OUR MEMORIES!"

My suspicious are confirmed. PECA did erase our memories. Well, I guess not really _erase_ our memories, but somehow took them from our minds themselves and just… saved them? I almost laugh at the thought of PECA just hacking into our brains and saving our memories onto some flash drive. But by the serious expression in Celia's face, that's sort of exactly what she thinks happened.

"HOW?", I yell back to her. Nothing.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?", I continue with something simpler.

"YOU DON'T EVEN REMEMBER THAT?"

"WE REALLY CAN'T TALK ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW!", I scream back to her as the search light inches ever closer.

There! There, in the distance, lights, bright city, colorful lights dance between the trees. Salvation. Escape.

"WE CAN'T!", I yell back to her. Right now, I don't care about my memories. I really can't say I care about hers either, whatever our past might be. All I care for is the possibility of surviving into the future, and right now, that possibility is staring me in the face. The color becomes blinding as we near it, the outer stretch where the horizon begins to meet the lively, lovely light. Freedom.

"CYPRUS!", Is all I hear behind me before we burst out of the forest-

Onto a cliff with the churning sea below us.

Out across the water is city life.

Miles away.

Salvation.

Of course. Of course it couldn't be this easy. Of course the evil corporation would put their secret laboratory on a remote island overlooking the entire world below it, complete with intimidating cliff. Of course their base would be here. Major God complex.

"What now!?", Celia yells at me, looking back at the now clear view of not one but multiple Choppers searching the forest like buzzards circling for prey, the entirety of PECA complex visible in the distance.

Well at least she's not insisting we go back there anymore. We're getting somewhere. But obviously from where we stand, we aren't getting anywhere without some serious change of plans, probably including a boat. Or a plane. A Chopper? I consider our options. Would it be possible for Celia to down one of those Choppers? Did her powers reach that far? No, it'd just end up damaging the thing anyway, as well as attracting attention immediately. Maybe we would have to go back there, even just to hijack one of their ships, but then there was the matter of actually flying the thing. Looking back over the raging waters below, I could only imagine crashing and falling right into the waters below…

_Powers._

_Falling._

_Flying._

"How do you activate your moves, Celia?"

"How do you not-"

"Not now!", I yell at her.

"Just concentrate and say the word. At least for any attack move that I know of. Some work just by thinking it." She gives me a worried look before I go back to staring across the sea. "Wait, what're you going to do?"

"Take my hand."

"Are you going to do something crazy?"

"Just take. My. Hand."

Again, she looks at my outstretched hand. She looks back at PECA, lingering on it for far too long as a Chopper beam sweeps our way, but finally she turns around to me, looks me in the eyes, and takes my hand.

The light's getting closer.

I breathe.

Concentrate.

Steel myself.

Quickly I pull Celia to myself, hear her gasp, holding her tight, and just as the light sweeps over us, I drop off the cliff.

* * *

><p>"Fly."<p> 


	3. Flight

_**Zero  
><strong>_

**Flight**

Flying.

It felt like something natural. Something... normal, coasting through crisp clean air. A simple thought propelling us forwards, as if I flew on sheer will alone. Ocean water shimmers underneath to the birth of the new morning light, a cascade of colors climbing over the sky, and from the horizon, our destination. Skyscrapers touch the sky of our goal, of our freedom.

It was a single moment of unadulterated bliss. As moments are though, it was indeed fleeting.

"Ho-Wha-Where- What are you doing!?" Celia yells following the initial shock of possibly falling to her death again, I suppose.

"Flying, of course!" I manage to answer her without losing concentration.

"That- that's-," she stutters further.

"Awesome, I know!" I respond in kind with a quick barrel-roll (possibly just to show off).

"Don't you _ever _do that again!" comes the response to my show of finesse.

"Fine, fine. Geez, it's the first time we're able to relax though. Look, they aren't even following us! Even if they were, we could easily lose them in the city."

"Aren't you optimistic." I can't see her face to tell if she's being sarcastic.

"What? We escaped! Do you think anyone's ever done that before? We're practically heroes!"

"And what are we going to do once we get into the city, Mr. Hero? Recite our 'epic tale of valor' at the local pub and buy everyone a drink with the money we _don't have_ and go back to the home we ?" Oh ya, totally being sarcastic. _Go right for the heart why don't you?_ She may be more cruel than I thought.

"I could just drop you now you know, Miss Pissy. You're kinda heavy anyway." I'm just saying that to spite her, seeing as, honestly, she's just as weightless as I am. "I heard somewhere that drowning is one of the more peaceful ways to go."

She doesn't even grant my teasing a response but instead shuts up completely, refusing any attempts at conversation for the rest of our flight.

There's no denying she has some valid points though. Where do we go in the first place? The port looming on the outer edge of the illustrious city does look at least moderately inviting, and Poke powers have become so common that it probably wouldn't bother anyone to see two kids flying around even at this hour. We could pass off as just two crazy youths that were out a bit too late, got lost, and are going straight home. Celia may even pass off as my sister if it has to come to that (but something tells me she'd rather that be a last resort).

Home. That word. Do we even have a home now? Is what that Dr. Smith told me true; did my parents really sell me off?

I wouldn't put it past them.

"What's that look for?"

I'm a bit surprised to find Celia staring up at me, her eyes intensely inquisitive of the subconscious grimace covering my face. When I don't answer immediately, she turns back to looking at the sea and says "You got quiet for so long, I ... worried you'd fallen asleep or something."

Huh, maybe she does give a shit.

"What's up?"

"Just thinking is all."

"About?"

"About what you said."

"What about it?"

Damn she's persistent. "About... home."

Instead of a normal response, like a silent nod of understanding or at least reserved silence again, she snorts. That single snort soon turns into a full on laugh.

"What!?" I yell at her.

"You're a tsundere* in the making," she says, and then falls into a fit of laughter.

"What are you TALKING ABOUT?"

"It's just funny," tears are running down her face at this point, "be-because they're usally girls- girls with- HA!- small bre- AHHH!"

Holding her by just her shirt over the ocean seems to get her to shut up, at least about whatever stupid name she was calling me and back to her normal, whining self. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING TRYING TO KILL ME GODDAMNIT I WAS JUST MAKING A JOKE AND NOW YOU'RE JUST BEING-"

The screaming continues until we close in on the pier, fortunately barely populated at this hour, much like the barren beach adjacent to it, save the stray fisherman or Water-type practicing here and there. When I put Celia down she immediately snatches her arm away from me and glares daggers into my soul, which I deflect with a pretty well designed eye-roll. "Whatever, let's just go."

"Where to, oh great Hero?" See, she's mocking me again.

"Just come _on_," I growl a bit at her and start walking away. "We have to at least find out where we are now."

"All I hear is _we _from you. _We'll_ go here. How about _we_ do this? What makes you think I have to stay with you anymore?"

"Fuckin' hell, if you want to go it alone, fine! Be my guest! I just thought maybe working together would be easier, so _soooorry_ for thinking." With that, I turn away from her and walk away. And don't look back.

Walking off the pier, I get a good look of the glimmering multitude of vast cargo ships lining the docks, a few men working to load rather heavy looking boxes onto the decks, not with machinery but with rope and their hands. Those must be more Fighting-Types I think, probably Machokes or something. That was the world we lived in; not only did we get rid of all the Pokemon in the world, but we also lost use for having to build machinery that would do work we could do ourselves now. Transit systems were still in effect, along with television sets and cellphones, but there was certainly less dependency on them compared to before.

Before.

Maybe this was better.

It's a weird feeling, making my way into the heart of wherever this was after seeing it from so far away. What was a speck before to me was now swallowing me whole, the bustle of people crowding the streets, glaring signs in every window advertising everything from crepes to cleaning supplies, and the massive buildings, well literally, towering over every little thing happening below. Issho had never really been a place for cars or such; a few bicyclist may zipped around the main path, but a majority were on foot, the masses all appearing as if they had somewhere to be other than here at that very moment. It strikes me that I really didn't have anywhere to go, and it felt weird to be surrounded by people that did. None of them could see I had just barely escaped death twice and was technically an outlaw. A convict. A lab rat. Almost a nothing, amongst a whole lot of somethings.

It is overwhelming.

"Hey punk, get moving!" A shove from behind trips me forward, and I can't even place the assailant as they disappear back into the sea of people. "Jerk", I mumble, but in a way he's right. I can't just stand around in the middle of a big city like this. I have to go somewhere. If I find the town square, I could probably take a breather and figure out where I even am.

Finding my way to the center proves to be much more difficult than I anticipated for two reasons: People, and not even knowing where the center of town may be. I assumed just walking in a straight line from where I came would eventually prove fruitful, but the keeping my bearings amongst the crowd part proved to be much more akin to a roll of the die than a well thought out strategy. I feel like I would drown around all these people attempting to share the same air, marching forward, suffocating-

Someone grabs my hand. _Someone trying to jump me? _They pull on my arm and I snatch it away, getting ready to run before I hear "Wait!"

I stop- and almost immediately get walked over by the crowd. I'm pushed forward, but the hand gets my arms again. On closer inspection, it's a girls hand. I follow in to it's owner, and see a flash of green hair behind me.

Celia?

"Would you just give me a second!" she yells, and I grab her arm and pull her against me. Again.

Man we gotten stop doing this.

It is her though, and in all honesty, I'm a bit relieved. The glare she gives me says she's mad at me still, but the look in her eyes says slightly otherwise.

"Get a room!"

The angry voice snaps us back into the stark reality and gets us moving again, arms formally locked together as to not lose her again.

"So, how long have you been stalking me?" I ask, not ever letting go of a chance to tease her.

"Just shut up," she mumbles and finds intense interest in the ground, though the blush covering her cheeks is much harder to veil.

"I've never had a stalker before. It almost feels cool." I smile down at her teasingly.

"I said shut up, Cyprus!" she yells up at me, and now it's my turn to laugh at her. "It's obvious you don't know where you're going anyway," she retorts.

"Oh ya, and I suppose you know better?"

"For your information, we're in New Pallet City" she states matter-of-factly.

"Oh? Isn't that Kanto?" I respond, lifting an arm to block the harsh rays of sun bouncing off the glossy windows. For being big city, this place is almost immaculate.

"What's that matter?" she snaps at me.

"Geez, calm down. Do you know anything else?"

"Ya, I know that town square is right over there," she says, and motions toward a vague direction that I don't honestly pick up.

"Uh, how did you-"

"Any half-wit would think to go there first thing," Celia ends her saucy response an equally saucy look, flashing those deep green eyes at me again like _Honestly? Can someone _live_ that stupid?_ before tugging me towards the direction of the square before I have time to appropriately respond.

By some miracle we burst out into an open space that I can only guess to be the square (though it's oddly circular). An ornate fountain gushes out water from multiple pores into its concave basin below, the diameter of the piece easily as long as a school bus. Many stray commuters take a bit of a break to sit along the edge of the fountain, either taking time to read or feed the birds or watch their children chase each other around in the open. It's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle that permeates the entire atmosphere surrounding it, and I find that to be strangely comforting that even in all the impersonality of this place exist such a sanctuary. Following Celia over to an iron bench, we sit and attempt to formulate some sort of plan over the roar of a more voracious group cackling near us.

"Seriously though, now what?" she starts off. "We don't have money, shelter, or _anything_ really other than the clothes we're wearing now and this." She pulls out a smallish rectangular box out of a pocket.

"What even is that?" I ask her.

"You dropped it back there." she motions vaguely, "while we were chased. I figure you'd know more about it than me." Hitting a button on the side of it I didn't even notice, the box flips open and fills out into the scientist's tablet from earlier.

"No way," I visibly exclaim and take it from her. "This is what I used to get out of that place."

The shady looking gang next to us roars bit louder, seeming to be ganging up on some other poor kid, but I can't really see whats going on. Fingers appear in my face as Celia snaps her fingers, regaining my attention. "Earth to Hero Boy, did you hear me?"

"Don't call me that. Call me Cyprus. Or Cy, if you have to. And no, I didn't hear you."

I'm graced with yet another charming roll of the eyes and "I _said _that we're going to use that thing to get back in again."

"You have a serious case of Stockholm Syndrome*," is all I can really manage to say on the subject.

"What? NO! It's not like that! I hate them! But we have to get our I _memories_!"

"What's so important about our memories Celia!? We were SOLD OUT. Maybe it's better that we just move on."

"UUUGH! Why don't you _get it_? Don't you even question things? Why us? What were they doing? Don't you have the feeling that you've lost something, that you've lost yourself, even for a second?"

I consider it, attempting to pull up some sort of feeling for what she's talking about, but it's difficult over the brutish yelling wandering closer to us. I attempt to block it out and focus on Celia, who looks like she's about to give up all hope on me, when a distinct voice yells out.

"Hey you!"

The slightly husky voice registers on my ears as one I've heard before, and I glance over at the gang of guys standing a few yards from us. It's obvious who the leader is, the guy standing at the helm of the Goon Platoon with a white tank top flashing moderately muscular forearms and a pair of tacky cargo pants I assume he's worn since his mom first gave them to him. On top of his head is a crimson red bandanna wrapped to hold back some spectacularly (childish) blazing orange hair, and a mouth holding a carefully positioned sneer that I'm sure he practiced in the mirror. In all, I'm unimpressed.

"Ya, you!" he yells some more, looking at me. "Dreamer Boy! Just standin' around in the street today like God himself had come down upon us!"

Is it really that hard to say my name?

Ignoring the idiot, I turn back to Celia, but he doesn't give it a moment's rest. "Who's that, your girlfriend?" he cat calls at us, strolling over closer with his crew on his heel, even the taller ones of the group not daring to stand above his lofty demeanor. Upon closer inspection, the guy doesn't seem all that much older than us at all, probably some early twenties bum who doesn't shave enough or have anything better to do than pick on those smaller than him. He might even be one of those new age wanna-be trainers, and that group behind him his team. Getting a quick count strengthens I hypothesis a little; including our Momma's boy, there are six members.

"You know, sweetie, you could do much better," he says as he props his leg up between us and leans into the both of us. We back away from him.

"He's not my boyfriend," Celia says rather defensively. I flash her a look that says _c'mon, am I really that bad?_

The look she returns screams _YEAH!_

I volley with a look that responds _Stupid! Now he's SO going to hit on you!_

Her eyes going wide indicates that at least scares her more than being considered my girlfriend, which is mildly comforting.

"He's my brother."

"I'm her brother."

We say it at the same time looking at our assailant, then at each other, and back at him. _Nice save._

"Is that so?" he says as he delivers the carefully choreographed sneer, moving to take Celia by the wrist. "Then you won't mind if I take this lovely-"

"Don't. Touch. Me." she growls, her normally green eyes glazing over in pink again, and our new friend hesitates, retracting his hand. He stares at her for awhile as if Celia has just transformed from a small teenage girl to a wild monster preparing for lunch. A few of his goons take hesitant steps back while others get in some sort of battle position, but after glancing back over at me, he holds up a hand and his distinct sneer returns.

"In that case, I challenge your brother here!" he exclaims and sticks his gross finger right at my face.

"Challenge? What?" I peer skeptically up at him, hoping desperately this nut job would just leave us alone eventually. Quickly looking at Celia doesn't make me feel any better from the horrified look on her face. "Oh, no, that really isn't-" she begins, but he cuts her off.

"Shhhh, girl," he motions, finally taking his finger out of my face so he can put it to his lips. "Let the big strong men take care of this."

Does he mean...

"We can just fight right here. You and me, son. I need all the experience I can get, anyway."

My heart beats faster, and my palms get damp. He doesn't want to seriously BATTLE me?

"Well come ON, Dreamer Boy. You can't back out now, and the great God sure a'int gonna help you either."

I stand up and regard my opponent, having to look up just barely even at full height. It's demeaning, but what was about to be even more embarrassing was how bad my ass was about to be handed to me. I'd never been in a battle! I barely even watched them on TV! I didn't care about that sort of thing. I was a Normal! No one fought Normals.

Was. And now... what was I?

"I'm in too."

The punk's eyes go wide (and honestly mine do too) as Celia stands up right beside me, defiance written across her face.

"Choose your second fighter. Make it a dual battle. That's fair. You have to now."

For about the millionth time a raise my eyebrow at her and consider if this girl really has gone just totally off the deep end, but our opponent doesn't deny anything she's said and simply grits his teeth and spits out, "Fine. The guy wants to get rescued by the girl, be my guest. We'll crush you both anyway," and turns around in a huff to consult his cronies.

The moment his back is to us, Celia grabs ahold of my sleeve and pulls me low enough that she can whisper in my ear at a lightning fast speed.

"He thinks you're a Dark-type. It's because of your clothes. He's a Fighter, and he knows I'm a Psychic. He's probably going to pull someone out who's effective against the both of us, or at least me, like another Dark, but those are pretty rare and usually professional. He's obviously not, so something like a-"

Our opponent is about to turn around now, apparently having chosen some tall lanky dude as his subordinate, decked out in an all green T-shirt but wearing a scarf around his neck for some reason that looked like moss. Celia visibly tenses at the sight of him.

"What is it?"

"I'm not very good at Placing, bu I _know _he's a bug type. That's not good." A visible shiver runs down her spine. She turns back toward me and keeps talking at an even more intense rate.

"What do you know?"

"Huh?"

"What do you KNOW? About class types. Weaknesses and strengths? How to use your attacks?"

"Uh well," I'm losing focus. Think. "They taught us all that in school, right?"

"Ok, so you know what is strong against what?"

"Ya, I guess so."

"What type are you?"

"Uh, Ghost, they told me."

She pauses, something seeming to spin and churn in her brain, but she shakes her head and waves it away for now. "Other than Fly, what moves do you know how to use?"

"How about none?"

I get lost in thinking, mostly about what she said, types and weaknesses. If I think about it I can understand why she was so shaken at the appearance of our challengers. Psychics are weak against Bug-type, and so are Grass, meaning that Celia is quadruply weak against our newest foe.

Placing, she said. The ability to discern exactly what type a person was just by their demeanor and appearance. Most trainers tended to show off their type by respective colors worn on their clothing; Fighters generally going with a tan-red color scheme, Psychics pink, Water-types blues, etc. Many were also affected in hair color as well, which aided to inform of a possible secondary type. Glancing over Celia, most would assume her to be Psychic type by her pants and Grass type by her hair and eyes. Master Placers could go so far as to find out the exact spirit Pokemon one possessed, even without the aid of physical appearances, though from what I knew that skill was one usually only gained through raw talent.

"CYPRUS!" Celia is calling for me again, as well as the Fighter. "Are you two ready to be pounded yet?"

"You have to fend off the Bug for me while I get that dirt bag!" she's hissing at me.

"How!?" I hiss back.

"You have to figure it out yourself!" she said, right as the Fighter began flapping his lip again.

"Look we have to start sometime, and I'd rather start sooner that LATER!" And with that he charges at us. Charges at me.

Rearing back his fist, which starts to blaze white, he yells, "MEGA- PUNCH!", and lunges for me.

"CYPRUS!"

Instinct alone tells me to throw my hands up, brace myself, and hope for the best. Screwing my eyes shut and crossing my arms, I send a final apology to the Lord for probably staring at boobs too long in my past life.

And wait.

Wait.

Nothing happens.

Or at least, not as far as I can see or feel. Cracking an eye open just a tad, I see Celia standing next to me, wide eyed. Well, not just her. There are a LOT of people staring at me now.

Where'd the Fighter go? I let down my arms and let every screaming muscle in my body relax a little as I survey the area, equally met with a whole bunch of eyes surveying me. What? What happened? Did I obliterate him? With my MIND?

Before I get a chance the decide if this is really cool or really terrifying, a voice barks behind me "H-how'd you do that?"

Spinning around, I'm met with our challenger sprawled out on the ground right behind me as if he tripped and fell over. Visibly frightened, he lifts that finger up at me again and stutters, "W-w-what are you?"

"Would you stop pointing at me?" I retort angrily, and he and those in a close proximity to me all back off. "I'm a friggin Ghost-type." I presume that's what he wanted to know, and as it stands it's really the only information I know myself.

What happened? Did he go... through me?

To my utter dismay, that stupid look of his creeps back onto his face, the cocky sneer making an encore. "A Ghost type, eh? I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself, but here we are. Here that, boys? I bet if we beat him, we'll be shoot into the 10,000s!" Some on his team rub their head and look like they'd much rather just GTFO, but unfortunately the Bug doesn't even look fazed. The Fighter rises to his feet again and gets into a fighting stance. "I wouldn't say we're done here yet."

I feel someone bump into me and find myself back to back with Celia whose keeping tabs on our other opponent. "I'd tell you that was awesome", she starts ,"but now they just seem even more intent on knocking us out."

"Thanks for trying," I mumble.

"Look, on the count of three, I want you to attack the Bug, and I'll dish out the pain on your end."

"I still have no idea how to do any of the stuff you're talking about."

"See, that's your problem. You don't know when to think and when not to think. Do whatever it was you were doing when you were flying and DON'T THINK ABOUT IT."

"But what moves does a-"

"Try Shadow Ball! THREE!"

"Try!?" I yell out, but she's already flipped around me and I hear her in my head again. _Hypnosis_.

Before I can register how effective it was, I hear, barely audible "Fury Cutter", mouthed by the Bug, along with two long scythes materializing from his arms, effectively replacing his hand. "Whoa," I barely breathe, staring wide eyed at where his hands used to be, almost too entranced to notice him charge right at me with the blades. Barely passing by me as I dive to side, he immediately turns back towards me and swipes at my body again, challenging me to dodge multiple of his attacks. _Holy shit_ I think, _he's for real_. I don't even have time to focus on a counter attack as I duck and roll, a blade slicing off hairs on my face. He seems about to come in for the kill, but looks up right as he raises an arm. I roll my head back and see what the Bug sees; new target, Celia.

_Oh crap!_ One hit from him could totally wipe her out! I panic. This is bad. He's closing in on her. Raising his arm.

I throw out my arm in vain. "Celia!"

What was that stupid move she said? Shadow Ball?

All at once a blinding orb of deep indigo light materializes on the end of my palm, growing to the size of a softball and immediately darkening until it is only tinged in purple mist, the center of it appearing to suck in all the light surrounding it. Then, just as quickly as it appears, it shoots out of my hand and careens toward the menace Bug. Upon impact it crashes into him and he stumbled right over his downed comrade instead, the color of his shirt fading where the ball made contact. Celia looks over at me in what I can only recognize as amazement, but turns back toward our dual opponents and finishes them off.

_Confusion._

"CONFUSION".

While they were attempting to get back up before, the two ruffians fall back to the ground and stay there, Celia turning away with a look of smug satisfaction as she waltzes back over toward me.

"Did we win?" I ask her.

"Of course we did" she responds in kind with a wink.

"Uh, how, exactly?"

"Well, we're not allowed to exactly kill them, but if you beat them to enough of a pulp that they don't wanna get back up, you win! It's like that old-timey sport they used to do, what's it called, cardboarding?"

"Boxing?" I answer her exasperated.

"Ya that!"she brightens up at my answer and I can't help but chuckle at how easily she's taking our whole turn of events.

"Hey, you."

The Fighter and the Bug appear behind us, tapping Celia on the shoulder. I immediately get into a fighting stance I thought looked intimidating on TV, but the guy just laughs at us and waves a hand. "Calm down kid, geez. Just take the money." I look down at his outstretched hand and regard the wad of bills his shoving towards me in awe. "Gah, you don't have to rub it in, just take it!" he says and thrusts it into my hand before turning to walk away without another word to us, but I can hear him grumbling a little to his companion. "Geez, Ghost-type, eh? That's gotta be trip."

I stare dumbfounded at the bills now in my hand, and then look up at Celia expecting her to be equally as impressed as me, but she's not even looking my direction now.

"Why di-"

"It's the reward we get for beating them, genius", she says before I even finish the question. "I think it's like half of whatever they have on them at the time. Don't ask me how to know if it's fair, something about the ELITE system keeps it in check."

Mulling it over in my head, I'm still terribly surprised at the amount. Counting it all out, I look back up at her and say, "Celia, there's enough to get a hotel room here! With room service, if we wanted!"

"Sounds nice," she responds vaguely, not taking her eyes off the crowd.

"Why aren't you listening to me? This is great-" but when I look back up at the people around us, shivers run up my spine. Before, a good half of them were just blatantly staring, some with mouths dropped, others stopped dead in the street to watch, but when I look at them all the head immediately snap back down or continue there bobbing back into the crowd. A sigh registers next to me, accompanied with the words, "This sucks."

"What?" I ask her. I mean, ya it's creepy, but maybe they were just all surprised to see a fight go on in broad daylight like that.

"Too many people saw us. Saw you. Shit." She looks up at me with an intense gaze I take as hostile for a moment, but she backs off and just sighs again. "It's not your fault. But... damn it. This is going to hurt."

"What is?"

"Just... catch me if I faint... or something stupid like that" is all she says, and closes her eyes.

"Wait," I manage to get out, but she's already concentrating, breathing in deeply, like she's totally forgotten I'm even there, and then her mouth moves, but I don't hear anything come out. Just like that, she goes limp. I gasp and quickly catch her as she sinks to her knees, surprisingly light even for such a small girl. "Celia!" I cry out. "What did you do!? Talk to me!"

Her eyes crack open a little bit, and the faintest of smiles appears on her lips. "We worry each other way too much," she says and lets out a small laugh, managing to sit herself back up.

"Wh-what happened?" I ask her as she raises her hand to motion at the crowd.

"Look," is all she says.

At first, I see nothing particularly special. Everyone is going on as normal, the sun is still shining, higher in the sky now, the fountain still spouting water, the gang before having already moved out of the territory, and no one was looking at us now. And then I realized that's exactly what she wanted me to see. Everything was normal, and no one was regarding the teenage girl who had just collapsed right next to them.

"I simply erased their memories," she said drearily, "Of that moment where that guy went through you."

"You can do that?" I say shocked.

"Well, as you can see, it's not exactly a walk in the park," she continues. "I mean it's pretty simple to do something like that one second moment. They probably just think you pushed him over and that's how the fight started."

"What about Shadow Ball? And all these people?"

"A Psychic like myself could learn Shadow Ball; it's not terribly uncommon. I just assumed it'd come naturally to you. As for the move, it was just in regards to about a ten meter radius."

She says it all like facts lined up on a little Powerpoint presentation she's prepared, complete with red laser pointer to highlight the important bits, and all I can do is look at her in wonder at how this kind of thing can just come so naturally to a person. Celia apparently picks up on my staring and giggles lightly. "Don't worry, you'll probably be able to do crazy stuff like that too one day."

Questions swim in my mind and I can hardly keep the flood from bursting out my mouth. Did they teach her that in PECA? How long did it take? Could anyone learn how to do that? If she can do that, how can we trust anyone to not just wipe all our memories or stab us in the back if they wanted?

My friend seems to pick up on the influx of inquiry that is about to spew out of me and says, "Hold on, let's go talk somewhere less ... public. I wouldn't mind getting some breakfast right after that excursion." This green haired girl stands up and sticks out her hand to help me up. Well, it looks like we're even. She saves me, I save her, she saves me, I save her again.

I could get used to this.

* * *

><p>"Ya, boss. We got a situation. In the square. Big ones, I tell you. No, I can't tell. Psychic and a Ghost. Yes, I'm serious! They don't have trackers. Yes, it's that serious. Alright, you got it, boss."<p>

A lone figure regards two youths walking away from the center of town, the click of his cellphone echoing off the walls of the abandon office room looking out on the inhabitants of the city below.

With a smile spreading over his lips, he says to himself, "This could be fun."

* * *

><p><strong>*tsundere - Japanese character development in which the character initially seems outwardly cold and even hostile, but has a warm thoughtful side hidden away. Usually girls, though there are a number of male tsunderes.<strong>

***Stockholm syndrome - A situation in which the hostage of a kidnapping become infatuated with their captor to the point of seeing them as friend, family, or even lovers.**

**Man, I manage to make even my own jokes sound horrible ...**

**So ends Chapter 3, and the first actual battle scene! Expect many more of those in the future, of varying quality XD I assure you though I am doing my homework on the subject, and while all characters and setting may be up to my artistic interpretation, I plan to use all real moves, abilities, and attribute of the creatures meant to be personified (even if I do grant some creative liberties as to the scope of those abilities, as seen by Celia, that's another thing I'll attempt to keep to a minimum or at least very explainable. They can't just all be Gods!).**

**Some more things to note. Yes, even though it is _technically _Japan, or at least Asian, people will, when it comes to the subject of greater universal beings, speak of God. I don't know how many people will even notice or care, and religion is NOT the theme of this work at all, so it isn't planned to be discussed it great detail, but if it comes up it'll be about God and or Jesus. Or something. Sorry if that offends anyone.**

**Also, the currency will be in $, since my keyboard doesn't have any other fancy symbols. Sorry for breaking canon. It can't be helped, at least not nearly as simply.**

**Technicalities I know! Anyway, next chapter will have a whole lot less action and a whole lot of EXPLANATION! So let's go exposition the shit out of this next part and then finally get to the stuff where things happen, deal? XD**


	4. Sitting With Strangers

_**Zero  
><strong>_

**Sitting With Strangers**

Pretentious coffee shops are the bane of my existence. Should I start from the beginning? No, never mind need to understand the problem with a world under the disease known as the coffeehouse.

1) People. You picking up a theme yet?

2) No, I don't want double vanilla half-tea three expresso shot raspberry swirl. All I want is _coffee_.

3) Where are the normal people chairs? Half the place always looks like what you want your living room to be but never got paid enough for.

4) Second hand, where's the _food_? How are we supposed to sustain ourselves off of _muffins_?

5) DOES ANYONE EVEN LOOK AT THESE PRICES?

Nevertheless, I find myself being dragged into some quaint hole in the wall called AstralDeer or something by our resident connoisseur on the subject, Celia.

"I've always wanted to go to one of these places", she coos as we walk through the sliding glass doors. "They just make you feel so great."

"Oh ya, greeeat. Woo", I half-say, half-moan behind her.

She cocks her head toward me with another questioning look. "Was that sarcasm?"

"Noooo," I say sarcastically.

All I get in return is a glare-eyeroll combo and a couple huffs as we our way to the front of the line. When it's finally our turn, Celia makes a big deal about choosing something that has at least five adjectives in it and costs as much as a nice car. Stepping up to the cashier, I take in the admittedly cute overly-cheerful blonde high school girl. "What would you like today?" she inquires and flashes a big white smile that visibly makes me wince from the brightness.

"I-is something wrong?" she asks, looking a bit dejected, and now I feel like I just went and kicked a puppy.

"No! No, uh, can I just have some coffee, please?", I respond.

"With?"

"Um, just, ya know, coffee."

"Would you li-"

"No."

"How abou-"

"No."

"Can we interest you i-"

"Probably not."

She puts on the kicked puppy face again, and I begin to understand why they put _her_ at the front register. _Its diabolical._

"Maybe a little vanilla."

The moment its even out of my mouth she brightens up and says "That'll be eighteen-eighty-eight."

Practically choking up a lung at the exorbitant price of coffee these days, I fork over the money and kiss room service goodbye. Celia waves me over to the opposite side of a two person table and takes a sip of the whatever she got and while I analyze the stuff to see exactly what makes it worth giving up room service for.

"What'd you get?"

I look up incredulously at her and respond "Coffee," as bluntly as possible.

"Haha! Of course you did silly, but what kind?"

"The normal, coffee kind."

She keeps looking at me a couple of seconds and when she finally realizes I'm being dead serious, goes back to daintily sipping at her own drink.

"What'd you get?", I ask in an attempt to balance out my conversational karma.

"My favorite! A New Age Raspberry Sunshine Twist", she says. Indeed, there were only four adjectives in that (three if you're really picky), so I am at least moderately impressed by the amount of self-control that must have taken, but I still look dumb-founded at her as I ask, "How can it be your favorite if you've never been here before?" My question is met with a look off into the distance as if she just realized this herself and then a shrug. "It just is", is all I get in reply.

Keeping watch on her, I wait to see if she's going to start this conversation up or not, and by the looks of it she's finding her refreshment to be much more interesting than possibly explaining what the hell is going on here, so I decide to go first.

"You care to um-"

"Explain what's going on here?" finishing my thought without even looking up from her cup.

"Just because you're a Psychic doesn't mean you have to rub it in."

This produces a laugh from her actually. "Oh come on, I can't _read minds_, Cyprus. It's written all over your face you've wanted to do nothing _but_ talk about it, which would make sense, considering how little you know on the subject of, well, _anything_."

_"Hey-!"_

"Your curiosity honestly surprises me. You don't come across as the type to necessarily care about much anything other than your own existence."

Ouch. "Is that a bad thing?"

Another laugh registers from Celia, and it's really starting to grate on me how it's usually at my expense. Suddenly she becomes quieter though and changes emotions like a light switch again, appearing to become rather sullen.

"That's probably the smartest way to be with the way it is now."

I stare at her. Where is this bout of introspection coming from?

"I feel like you're stalling," I say finally, and she sighs and looks back up at me.

"What do you want to know?"

Now, in the moment we may actually be getting somewhere, my mind bursts with all the questions I want answers to. It's practically impossible to choose where to begin, every possible question leading to an answer that would only elicit more questions, like a complicated root system of information. _Has this world always been here, and I just didn't notice?_ I ask myself, and this is one question I dread the answer to.

"What do you think I need to know?" I inquire finally, redirecting the decision to her. Not exactly surprising, this makes her sigh again.

But she begins. "We were being kept the PECA Apex Complex, their laboratory for their highest level of Pokemon pseudo-science. It was where the breakthrough for the Huma-Poke-Genome was produced, and where a majority of their initial testing and the surgeries were held. They even went as far as to create an entire separate branch of their corporation simply for aid in job placement and rehab groups to help people learn how to use their powers for everyday tasks, with a pretty high success rate. PECA implemented itself into nearly every single job or division possible with the genome powers, which is why they hold such high status in almost all aspects of Issho's economy, something I'm sure you've failed to notice. But I digress. Within the last few decades though, it has declined in it's usefulness since 95% of the population derive their types and attribute from their parents now, and the other 5% choose to stay Normal. A vast majority of the PECA clinics closed or were remodeled, and the scientists behind the procedure all modestly faded into general obscurity, leaving the people to their own devices so to speak. Then all the sudden PECA made a sudden resurgence in the reformation of the Pokemon League, and finally revealed the true potential in those chips they put in all of us."

"Huh?" is all I can really respond with right now.

"Those chips that we had to cut out, what are referred to as ELITE? Before the training system, people were just told that they were there to keep our energy levels in check. You asked earlier about how come we're not all just getting constantly mind-wiped or blown up? That's what the ELITE are for; they regulate how much power we can use and when. Don't ask me how, I'm sure there's some intense crazy half-science behind it that I couldn't understand for the life of me."

"But what keeps psychopaths from just cutting it out like we did and running rampant? And how do they have anything to do with the training system?"

"You really never did pay attention to anything, did you? Well, the answer both of your questions is pretty simple: the Elite System."

This is something I at least DO know about. It's the entire ranking system kept up with by PECA for all the trainers in the world, all of us connected by our ELITE chips. Not only did they regulate us, but they were also special wireless transmitters that regulated the going ons between each other, such as the outcomes of fights and the like, and transferred the information onto the Elite system in real-time. And then it hit me like a Shadow Ball to the face.

"PECA has us all under lock and key 24/7 with the Elite System. They technically know where everyone is ever, and they've become so common and accepted that if you WERE to remove it, they'd know something was up, and it probably wouldn't be hard for you to get found pretty quick even without it. Besides, if anyone wants to have an Elite rank they have to keep their chip intact. PECA practically became the entire task force as well and always had new technology to show off for the 'betterment of society'. It seems ironic, but people were so grateful for what they did with the genome deal that the masses practically jumped at the opportunity to get stalked by PECA for the rest of their lives."

Just like that Celia stops talking then and stares outside into the park where we just were, and I can nearly see her mind wandering away into some depressing thoughts. Before she falls too deep into self-pity I try to reel her back in. "Seems like a personal subject to you."

"Not really," she says, not really looking at me, "It's just... have you ever wanted to see a Pokemon before?"

"Why wou-" but the look of hers is only getting worse, so I try to lighten the load. "No, not really I guess. You know I'm not really into that stuff." Even with my casual reply she still manages to appear a good bit dejected, so I say, "But I mean... you could tell me why you do."

"I never said I wanted to see one," she retorts defensively, but when the quiet remains she continues."... but you're right, I do. Or did once, maybe as a childish fantasy of mine before all this. It just seems rather sad, ya know? The extinction of an entire race."

At this revaluation, we both become silent and I follow her gaze to outside. The square is starting to crowd, a great many people nearly totally blocking our view of the fountain, and everyone seems to be talking to someone else but it somehow stays at a dull roar from our side of the glass, very thickly insulated I'd have to presume. Of all things, a pearly white limousine breaks apart the crowd of people, crawling at a snail's pace as to not run over anyone, seeming awfully polite for someone who has to be pretty wealthy to afford cars in this area. Still, I find myself thinking show off as the tinted windows pull up to the sidewalk.

"Wait, hold on," I say as I snap back towards Celia. "How do you know all this?"

"Well they told me," she replies matter of fact once she collects her senses again.

"What?"

"I was just about to get there if you would stop gaping at me like a beached whale."

I close my unconsciously open mouth.

"That's a much better look for you. Anyway, yes, they told me. I was, and I'm sure you were to be too, a part of their plan. We were, in effect, 'bred' for the simple purpose of becoming Elite trainers."

"Excuse me? What are you even talking about?"

Celia rolls her eyes and lands dead-eye contact with me. "We were made to fight."

Me? Taken to become a trainer? It doesn't fit anywhere in my mind. Does she mean fight for the Elite? That's utterly, totally-

"Crazy. I know. Why you? I've wondered that myself for a while now, considering your innate lack of knowledge on the subject, but then again, why do you think they kept me there for three years?"

Now is the first time I'm able to actually sit and realize just how incredibly long three years is. "What... If you don't mind my asking, what did you do all that time?"

"Oh, don't look so concerned. It's not like they tortured me or anything. Really, it was like school I guess, if school involved fights to the death on a normal basis."

"To the death!?" I gasp, but she just laughs in my face again.

"I'm just kidding, Cy, geez. There were a good number of other kids there too, ya know. I don't know if you might've seen any of them in your lavish exit routine, seeing as the higher floors are largely out of use now. We were all meant to study Pokemon science and train for the most part. Knowing all strengths and weaknesses, abilities and moves, possible match-ups and greatest stat increases, and even Placing. That was one thing I was never very good at; freaking Placing. There were some masters of it there though, you could tell. They see you do one move and they have your entire skill set mapped out."

"So you at least know what you are, right?"

"Actually, no," she says, "though I have my thoughts. They never told me nor let any of the other kids Place me. They had me train alone and meditate by myself a lot."

"Um, why?"

"I believe they were planning to use me not as a gym leader, but as part of the Elite Pokemon League."

"Woah! That... that's awesome! I mean, if you're into that stuff."

"Ya, I mean... I guess it wasn't too bad." Then, quieter, she says, "It's just... I feel like... from my old life... like I'm missing something. Or someone."

I attempt thinking back to what I was doing three years ago, but again my mind draws up blanks, other than the image of a dank, small little room that I can't tell if it's an apartment or a walk-in closet, but it's definitely recognizable. "Huh, well one thing may make sense then."

"Oh, wow! That's the first time you've said something intelligent I think!" Celia cries out in what I sincerely hope to be mock-surprise, but at least it looks like the pity party is taking a tea break.

"Shut up. I just thought of a reason why they might of erased our memories then."

"So we wouldn't have any emotional ties. Ya I've thought of that," she says haughtily, "To be fully focused."

"Ok, commander, what else have you already thought of?"

"This," she says, and holds up some of the bills we got from earlier.

"Celia, I'd rather you just burn the money than go spend it on another frooffy made-up sounding drink."

"No, Cyprus! How did we get this?"

"The overpriced coffee?"

"NO! The money to BUY the overpriced coffee."

At least we're on the same page about this whole coffee thing. "Oh, right. That guy gave it to us."

Celia literally looks ready to fry my brains and just leave me here. "_Why_ did he give it to us, Cyprus?"

"Because we kicked ass."

I'm seriously lost as to whether that diffused her or if she's about to explode. Celia just stares at me mildly content and doesn't speak for several seconds. Yet another exasperated sigh finally indicates I'm in the clear, and she says

"We're going to become trainers, Cyprus."

"WHAT!?" I yell out and jump in my seat, throwing myself forward almost clear across the table. Celia doesn't even seem fazed. So much for being in the clear.

"Are you _LITERALLY_ insane?" I hiss at her through gritted teeth. "You're doing _exactly what they wanted!?_"

"Would you quit making a scene," she says.

A quick scan of the entire room shows that, once again, everyone is staring at me. Embarrassed, I throw my gaze to the ground and sit back down, hoping my hair or something hides the red-hot cheeks of shame. Before I totally sink into my seat though in a desperate attempt to disappear, I glare up at Celia and say

"We are NOT-"

"Did somebody say they wanted to become a trainer?"

This time the both of us look surprised as we turn to face the man who appears to be addressing us. He stands next to our table with a very upright but casual posture, probably hindered a bit by the convex mass of his mid-section hidden by his dapper pin-stripe vest underneath a velvet coat he has over it that looks something a ring leader of a circus would wear. It suits him though, from his shiny black pointed boots to his bowler cap and unlit cigar, which he removes from his mouth to address us again.

"You two want to be trainers?"

"Yes."

"No!"

We both speak at the same time again, which makes the man chuckle at us like we're some kind of comedy routine. "I so enjoy the youth of this generation. Please, may I take a seat with you?" With the question he also takes out a small card and hands it over the Celia. One glance over it and she nods silently at him and passes me the card. As he grabs a chair I read the inscription on the business card. The insignia on the front makes my heart run cold.

It's the same _P_ as on the chips.

I flash a severely questioning look at Celia, but she just sternly returns the look with a nod back at the card. I read on.

_** Pokemon**** League**_

_New Pallet City Gym Director_

** Harris Friedman**

Oh, I see where she's going with this. She wants more information on training and such, but can't let it be known who we are without raising his suspicions. Even with his limited knowledge, turning him down now may look shady.

"Tell me, you two; where are you from?" Harris the gym director asks us once he becomes situated.

"Around the area," Celia says. I assume she plans to fill in for the both of us.

"Is that so?" he says, and a smile spreads over his face. "Then I'm sure you must be familiar with our wondrous gym here in New Pallet."

"Ah, no sir, not really. My brother and I here were just discussing visiting actually."

"Oh, and what's this I hear about you being trainers? I'm always interested in meeting the newest members of the League."

"Well you see," Celia continues with glancing at me again, "My brother here, even with his _natural_ ability, doesn't have any interest in it."

Even my glare at her for that passive-aggressive compliment can't impede this man's natural curiosity. He turns to me eyes widened in surprise and says in a dumb-founded manner, "Young lad! Why, you can't just go wasting raw talent like it grew off trees! What have you got against the League?"

Celia avoids my eyes, leaving me to answer on my own. "Let's just say it's a personal choice I've made," I say more to the both of them than just the director.

"Well that's a darn shame to go throwing away one's own God given abilities," he says through the cigar hanging out of the mouth now, hands going to his pockets as he leans back in his chair, apparently not going to attempt to persuade me otherwise. Suddenly he switches trajectories and leans into the table, whispering in a much more serious, gravelly voice, "Or should we say, PECA given?"

This time neither I nor Celia can hold back our surprised looks, and the edges of her eyes become tinged with pink. Before she can do anything though, he takes his hand from his pocket and subtly slides something my way. When he removes his hand, there is left a small, red ovular gem left in front of me, and when I pick it up myself I can see my hand through it still. _Translucent? _I open my mouth to make sure he knows he's giving something very precious to a teenage boy and that's crazy, cause if he is he so can take Celia, but he puts a finger to his lips as he removes the cigar in mouth again and nods slightly at the card still lying on the table.

_I feel like I just got initiated into some drug cartel_, I think as I slide the gem over the card. Sure enough though, lettering appears that certainly wasn't there before.

_Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer._

"It's custom made," he adds.

Another incredulous look passes from me and the now mysterious man as the card is handed to Celia, but she doesn't even read it and instead says "What are you trying to say?"

"How about you two come to the gym? We may just have a lot to talk about, and I don't know if this is exactly the most appropriate place," he says and begins to rise from his seat.

"Who even are you?" I demand of him.

"The car, please, good sir," is all he seems like he plans to say, but then turns back around to add, "I have already been informed of your skills. No need to drag this out any longer than it need be."

A look at Celia tells me she really didn't plan for this either, but seems to have no objections to going with him_. I feel like were just letting __him__ kidnap us._

Nevertheless, we exit the coffee place together and follow the man outside back into the crowd, but we seem to be the only people who didn't recognize him upon arrival. Each step he takes causes people to either stop and stare or move out of his way, and just by simply existing, he parts the sea of people surrounding us. Some lean over to each other and start whispering, casting odd looks at us or just flat out staring as we keep a safe distance behind Harris. It's not exactly like you could miss him, but it's still impressive the amount of flair he brings. To my surprise, we're heading right toward the limousine. Is THIS the show off that came here? I wonder to myself. Upon arrival he graciously opens the door and waves us in, letting in Celia first and then myself into an interior that appears larger than a nice apartment. Everything is covered in a deep red velvet finish, with two rows of seats that face each other and a ornate glass topped raised space I'd assume to be a table centered between them. Celia and I occupy one seat together and Harris climbs in to take refuge upon the opposite side upon climbing inside. He raps twice on the tinted window connecting the backseat to the front, and almost instantaneously the vehicle resumes its forward motion, albeit very slowly.

"Either of you care for a drink?" our host inquires, appearing to reach down below the table and open up one side of it and miraculously pulls out a bottle of a questionable dark substance. Still, I almost open my mouth to accept his invitation, but Celia cuts me off with, "I apologize, but we don't drink."

"Sad lot you are these days," he replies as a fancy glass materializes as well, pouring himself some of the drink and taking a sip before he continues. "Don't get me wrong though, I meant what I said about taking a liking to young people like yourself." Taking another sip from his glass, he pauses and looks out the window as if something had just struck him odd. "Actually, now that I think about it, I meant a great deal of what I said to you."

"And you didn't plan to?" Celia asks a little bit less than graciously.

"Well, it was just my luck that you two were discussing what you were at the time, or else I would have had to stumble into your table or something ridiculous like that to get your attention."

"Why? What do you want from us?"

"I rather enjoyed hearing about your show in the park today," he says, eyes falling back and forth between the both of us to gauge our reactions. I suppose I crack first, because I look over at Celia like _you were supposed to take care of that_. However, she doesn't even glance my way as she watches him with what I can only call cold contempt and says, "I can put on another show if you want," eyes still not completely green again.

A deep laugh erupts from him at that moment, one that causes him to put his drink down as he doubles over a little, but Celia doesn't let up. Wiping his eyes a bit, he sits back up and looks at her in the purest of merriment. "See, this is what I love about kids these days. Always so ready the face the world head-on, as if they're invincible."

"You're Normal," is all she responds with. _Hey, I thought you were supposed to be bad at that__ Placing thing_ I think, but keep back my surprise when he responds "Indeed, that I am. Nothing special you're going to find here. You can even check the rest of the car if you want, but I promise there's no hidden booby-traps or anything unnecessary. At least not for you."

"Look man, if you really want us to trust you, you're going to have to tell us what you're doing, starting with this," I cut in, throwing down his card and the jewel onto the table and letting them slide in front of him. He takes the items in his hands and fiddles with them a little before returning them to his pocket and then looking back at us.

"Let's begin this with my stating I am here to aid you, though you certainly came much earlier than expected if I do say so myself, which is why I have the feeling this wasn't exactly a planned excursion."

"You're with PECA, right?" I ask him, attempting to work around all of his cryptic babbling.

"Saying that I'm _with_ them is a bit of a stretch", he says with a slight amused grin, " though I can answer you that I am certainly a part of them, for better or worse."

"Then..." and I find myself at a loss for words. Does he know about our escape earlier this morning? Does he suspect us and plan to turn us in? It's possible he knows nothing at all and this is merely his character. _What a creep_ I think.

"Let's cut to the chase. Are you the two youths who managed to escape the off-site laboratory located on Cinnbar Island just this morning?

Busted.

Celia's voice comes to my head again. _Hypno_-

"Wait!" he cries out, throwing up a hand at us both and the voice ceases. "If you're so worried about it, I'll let you know I'm _not _here to turn you back in. Quite the opposite actually, if you'd just let me talk."

"We've given you plenty of time to do just that" I say.

"Just hear me out before you go screwing around with more people's minds, alright? Can we have a deal?"

"What kind of deal?" Celia asks curtly.

"If you don't like what I have to say, you can do whatever you want and pretend this never happened, alright?"

"I already have a feeling we won't like," I backup Celia.

"Do you appreciate PECA?" he inquires of us, staring at us intently with his hand still up.

"Not particularly," Celia says.

"Neither do I. Isn't that something you'd like to hear?"

"How do we know you're not just saying all this?"she says in return.

"God Almighty, if you'd just put the damn eyes away I could tell you!" he says sternly. I have to hand it to this guy, he's staying really calm if he knows about the both of us and all what we could do to him out of sight from the entire city. Neither of us really know the extent of Celia's power, but it's obvious he knows the risks involved. Really, he's more in danger of us than we are of him, if he really is a Normal. Now I can't really tell whether to hate the guy still or feel like a jerk.

"Lay off for a sec, Celia," I say, lightly putting a hand on one of her clenched fists, having totally missed how long she must have had to concentrate for even one move after two intense fights. The moment I touch her it's like a flip is switched in her mind. Her eyes glaze over and she sits ridged, her eyes dilating deeply the way they do whenever she zones out. "Celia?"I say, shaking her body, and in the same couple of seconds it's as if she's just flipped right back on.

My hand still wavers by her side but she just shakes her head and blinks really hard, muttering a little like "Ya, ya, ok Cy. I'll- I'll let him go."

"Are you okay?" I ask her.

She looks up at me hazily and says, "Ya, ya I'm okay. I just need... to lay down... ya know?"

"Feel free, to lay down in the back if you need, my lady. I'm sure your friend can relay my message to you once you're feeling up to par again," Harris says, hitting a button under the table that causes the middle section of the seat to fold out and back, revealing a whole other section of the car. Celia mumbles a barely audible thank you and disappears into the back set of seats, the both of us hearing the thump of her landing on the seat.

"Let us hope she does not snore," Harris says and takes another sip of his drink, and looks down surprised at it when it becomes empty, shrugs, and pours another glass.

"Is she going to be okay?" I ask him.

"Oh do not worry, young man. Your friend will be just fine after a couple of moments rest. It must be difficult, handling that level of energy. I'm actually quite impressed you haven't done the same in the course of your journey, though from what I heard you haven't been nearly as active."

"Mmmm in all seriousness, I would love to understand what you're talking about right now."

"I'm speaking of your ELITE. The ones you both removed from your person at the start of your journey. Wise choice if I do say so myself. Neither of you would have been able to get nearly this far with it holding you back, so. It's just too bad you'll need them again for the remainder of it."

"You seem to have trouble focusing on one thing at a time."

"Oh goodness, you're right. My apologizes. Let me just tell you what I know then. Being in a higher-tier position among the PECA personnel, I was informed that there would be a new off-shore experiment commenced near the area we are in now. Though the specifics were not totally relayed to me at the time, I was told vaguely that it was an effort to "Improve the overall stability of the Elite Training Facilities". Gyms, as you and I know them. That was years ago. Since then, I was recently contacted by the same agency and told that soon the results for their work would be prepared and certain preparations to be made."

"Huh. So I suppose we were the 'results' of their work then."

"I was only informed that one person would be sent into the field, but I suppose there has been a change in plans since then."

Ya, let's go with that, I think. "So what are you supposed to do with us now?"

"Well, I was told to, in effect, start whoever was sent on their journey."

"What journey?"

"The journey to become the new Zero."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Alright, here I am apologizing for the need for so much<em> _speaking and such, but I promise everything will get back up to pace again quite soon. Felt like they needed a break from all that craziness and giving myself some time to prove that I indeed might maybe know where Im going with this. Possibly... _**

**_NEXT TIME: Something much better than two people talking together a damn lot._**


	5. All Aboard the Crazy Train!

**_Zero_**

**All-Aboard The Crazy Train!**

"I'M DONE!"

Miraculously, at the very moment Harris imbued his grand plot on me, the car came to a sudden stop. Not even looking to see where we are, I bust out of the vehicle and continue yelling at him at the same time.

"Jesus, when was it that I boarded the freaking train to Crazy? I swear I missed my stop somewhere between 'Leading a Normal Life" and "You're All Bat-Shit Insane". Seriously, me? Us? ZERO?"

"I see you understand what I am referring to," Harris says calmly as he steps out of the limo, walking a few paces to open the door for Celia.

"Of course I know what you're talking about! Everyone, even me, knows about the Zero."

Or at least, everyone doesn't know about the Zero. A person clouded in totally mystery is the apparent greatest Trainer of All Time (If you choose to forget about all that time BEFORE PECA, which most tend to do). No one except the PECA people that put him or her in charge know who it is, and all those that have made it as far as the Elite Team have always come back without any memory of the undertaking. _More memory wipes_ I realize. Some actually believe the Zero doesn't exist, and that it's merely an illusion put on by PECA in order to maintain its total control over the League, but even this theory has no way of being proven.

"What is he fussing about now?" Celia inquires sleepily as she climbs out the car, steadying herself on Harris's outstretched hand.

"I have just made an offer to aid you in your journey as new trainers," he says rather polite and calmly for a man who must be mentally broken inside. And of course, Celia takes the bait and chirps up immediately. "Oh, that's great! Did you hear that Cy-"

"HE WANTS US TO BECOME ZERO!" I yell at her.

"Oh, cool! That shouldn't be too hard, right? I mean, we have to do something to pass the time."

I stare at her. She stares back at me, and then cocks her head a little to the side. "Right?"

"It's over for me." I begin my last will and testament," I, Cyprus Mc-I-Dont-Know-Because-An-Evil-Corporation-Wiped-My-Brain-And-Then-Expected-Me-To-Rule-The-World, hereby-"

"I'd just like to say that I did not in fact tell you to necessarily go do such a thing."

Though interrupting a man's last words is rather rude, I let it slide this once and say "Wait, you _don't_ want us to become Zero?"

"Do what you will, my friend, but I am not here to force you into anything. I would at least like you to see the interior of the gym before you make a sudden decision though."

With that he flicks his eyes toward some space behind me. Somehow, I have managed to miss the towering, glimmering structure standing atop a hill I find myself on, and now take the time to bask in its awe. The entire thing is a dome, with triangular glass panels making up the sides of the curved exterior, though there is no evidence of any support beams between the panels and instead looks as if each panel is just stuck to the next, like a giant contact lens over the gym. What comes across most incredible is how, instead of being totally translucent, the panels each shimmer and I realize it looks exactly like how water does when it is reflected, though in such a vast density that it makes the building opaque. People can be seen moving about inside, but their shadows dance with the reflections so you can't tell exactly what is ever going on, as if it's just one large jumbled pool party.

"It's beautiful," Celia says quietly, and I'm startled to find she's right next to me now, but then nod my head in agreement. Close to us is a large sign projection, stating:

**NEW PALLET GYM**

The Aquatic Palace!

Gym Team Leaders:

Sequoia - Tentacruel

Harlee - Starmie

Ty - Gyarados

"Wow, the gym leaders sound super tough," Celia says, studying each of their portraits that appear on screen along with their name and their spirit Pokemon.

"Guess PECA decided to step up their game," I mumble dejectedly. "This is exactly why this is going to be impossible."

Harris comes up behind me and claps me on the back. "Nothing is impossible, my dear boy. Come, at least let me show you around and make try to you comfortable."

"I don't think anything could make me comfortable in this body," I say as we walk up toward the front doors, a surprisingly long distance from the road. The gym is situated at the top of a circular hill, resting like a lonely, out of place island in the middle of a large concrete jungle.

"Whatever do you mean?" Harris asks of me as we reach the front, the doors sliding open for us.

"I mean- Woah."

My thoughts are totally cut off by the sight of the New Pallet City Gym. It's just one, giant, expansive beach front, with multiple smaller tiered pools within like a sort of fountain like structure. The floor of the gym is all water, and all around there are a number of towers with water gushing over their edges and ladders to climb into them. Some of the smaller pooled towers are higher or larger, and in the center is one that reaches clear to the ceiling, and in every basis and even on the ground, there are people. And battles. Battles were being fought everywhere, which was sort of breathe taking in itself, to see the sheer amount of color and graceful intensity all around. It was obvious that this was a Water based gym, but many of the fighters were not Water-type judging by there moves. It was captivating in itself–all these people just existing together in their truest nature.

"A-awesome," I say, barely breathing the word.

"Having second thoughts?" Celia teases me.

"What? I mean No! It's just... cool looking," I say to her but barely take my eyes off of the scene.

Then, she gets serious all of the sudden. "What's the big deal anyway? Why don't you want to be a trainer?" she asks me. "And don't give me any more half-ass answers."

She's not exactly being mean, but just gives me a look that speaks all kinds of business if I don't answer her in a way she wants, so I collect my thoughts and try to put them together the best I can. "It's just the way I feel I've always been," I say staring off into at the gym, "I don't remember what it was like to even be alive before yesterday, but it's not like the Cyprus that existed then just got up and left. He's the one that tells me not to fight, and while I don't know exactly why, it feels wrong to just ignore something that's a part of me. That is me."

Without even blinking, Celia returns with, "But, Cyprus, this IS you now. You haver a chance to be someone new. Can't you see it? You're holding back by still trying to stay Normal. But I can see it. You seem like ..."

Pause. Heartbeat. Eyes flicker.

"... like you've always wanted to be a trainer, haven't you?"

Pause.

Beat.

Flicker.

"_Don't_."

As if getting stabbed in the chest, her eyes go wide and she looks at me mortified. "Cyprus, I-"

"Do not. For a _second_. Think _you_, of all people, know how this feels," I say through gritted teeth.

"Cy, dont-"

"HEY!" I yell out. Sound waves reverberate off the wall so loud it makes it sound like there were ten of me yelling and not one. It does what I wanted it to though, and in that moment everyone is staring right at me. Battles pause, the room seems to quit moving, and the only sound to be heard is the running water off the tiers.

"Yo!" I continue to speak. "I'm Cyprus, and I'd like someone to come hit me!"

"Fucking Christ, Cy, would you stop?" Celia hisses behind me, but obviously I'm going to ignore that. The rest of the room just looks at me like _Who the hell is this kid and why does he want to get hit so badly?_ Which would be the natural reaction, granted.

"Anyone! Try and hit me! Like hit! Fighting moves please!"

They just look back and forth at each other, some even going back to their battle or cussing me out under their breathe I suppose, but one guy whose on the ground floor gives a shrug and walks up towards me. In that moment I almost puss-out, because this guy is heavy-set, with broad shoulders and a white-T that has to stretch out over his biceps and long red pants on, but I'm sort of proud to Place him as most likely a Fighter, which is what I need.

"Are you trying to say you want a battle, bro?" the guy asks me, at least being chill about the whole thing.

"No man, just hit me. Or kick. Kicks work, too. I hope."

I'm not at all surprised by the crazy look he gives me now that probably mimics the one I've been giving Celia for the past day, and he says, "Dude... are you sure about this?"

"I need the experience," I say, hoping that works as a valid explanation.

A good couple of eyes are still trained on our exchange, and Celia is dead silent for once, but that doesn't change the fact I can feel her glaring bullet holes into my brain. Whatever, might as well start somewhere.

"K man, whatever you want", my partner in crime answers. I'm secretly glad he's not a man of many questions and then attempt to focus much more on not tensing up as he reels back his arm and cries out, "Rock- **SMASH**!"

_Oh shit! That doesnt sound like a Fighting move! Was I wrong about him?_

All in one moment, it's like time seems to slow and I can experience every little thing. The smell of the salt water, the way it falls off the towers, the dry taste in my mouth, the curve of my nails as they dig into my clenched hands, and the sound of his fist flying through the air, six inches for my chest, five inches from it, four to it, three inches, two, one. Impact.

Negative one. Negative two inches into my chest. The feeling of every muscle in my body relaxing, the sound of the collective gasps, a long breathe of air inwards across my tongue, and the sight of his face in astonishment. And then time returns to its normal speed. And I'm left standing there with a guy's fist through my chest.

"Holy shit!" he cries out as he darts his fist back. "Shit shit shit, are you ok!?"

But then he looks down at my chest where there indeed is no gaping hole but instead just my black T-shirt as it was before. No evidence he hit me at all.

"How did you...?" he starts to ask, but my man of few questions cannot find it in himself to finish this one. Instead, to my surprise, he reels back and tries to hit me again. Now we have the entire attention of the room again as my unfortunate friend wails at what feels like thin air but is indeed a human being. Finally he quits that and simply puts a hand on my chest, and that manages to stay outside of me, remaining completely solid. He moves it to my shoulder and stares at me dead on as he asks, "What are you?"

Loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, I answer him. "I am Cyprus, and I am a Ghost."

Total silence.

"Type," I add.

There. Now Celia will understand that being a Ghost is crazy, freaky, inhuman, and no one will accept that, and that trying to be that in this world would be impossible, and that it's just easier if I pretend to be Normal.

Before there are screams of terror, or gasps of disbelief or calling me a monster or even simply gossip amongst themselves about the events or _anything_ that I expect and accept to be the normal response in this situation, the person who volunteered to beat me up cracks open a wide smile and says, "That's awesome!"

And just like that, all around the room people are either cheering or speaking excitedly or whistling and a great many actually come over to me. A number of trainers gather around and all start speaking to me at once, asking questions and trying to congratulate me or something, and I guess my surprise is pretty obvious because I find Celia laughing hysterically beside me, nearly doubled over as she gasps, "Your-your face when- HA!" There's no way to even process all that's going on at this point, and I'm lucky Harris steps in to save the day just at the right moment. A comforting hand is placed on my shoulder and I feel myself being propelled around the crowd, which breaks apart gradually at the direction of the director, who I finally manage to notice is talking to me.

"Come along now, we have other things I would like to discuss, and I'd much rather it be in private." Apparently there is a great respect for the director because no one chooses to get in our way as we walk the perimeter of the building around a couple of the tiers, leaving behind the mass of people still watching us go. Before we completely lose sight of them though, I look back and see the guy who talked to me in the first place, standing above all the others and waving, smiling at me even. And just like that, I find myself lifting an arm to wave back, smiling a little bit as well.

"Looks like you've got a fan club now," Celia says to me with a teasing wink. "That was a stellar campaign you pulled off."

That smile quickly turns into a scowl. "Whatever, that's not what I meant to happen anyway."

"Oh, what did you want?" she asks, still smirking a little.

"It doesn't matter now."

Harris stops abruptly. "Now we're here."

Nothing in particular seems different about this area of the gym than the alternate view. "Are you sure?" I ask him.

"Quite," comes his curt response, and he bends over and touches the floor. _Is this the beginning of our training?_ I wonder. _Toe touches?_ Before I manage to embarrass myself though, a panel of the floor slides away and water spills down the revealed set of stairs. "Come along," Harris says, and disappears down the stair case, leaving Celia and I to choose our own fate. I look over at her and she just shrugs.

"What if it's a torture chamber?" I whisper. An elbow passes through my side, and when she sees that doesn't work, just rolls her eyes and goes down the stairs.

"Am I the only one responsible enough to think about these things!?" I yell down at her, but find myself tagging along anyway because being alone sucks.

At the bottom of the stairs is a grate that all the water from above filters into, and when I reach the floor the panel slides back into place, leaving us all in a dark room. Or what WOULD be a dark room, if it weren't for all the monitors that covered nearly every wall in various angles, some televisions sets new and old stacked on top of each other or computer monitors mounted on top or even some to the wall, while others are just regular modern projections. I couldn't even begin to interpret the data and information displayed on each one, and Celia only manages to look just as bewildered, but as always Harris kept his cool calm demeanor. "Here is the man of the hour now. Dr. Jones, would you be so kind as to introduce yourself to our guests?"

Amidst all the monitors, a clump of shadow grows and moves, splitting apart it seems until I realize as he steps forward into the light in the center of the room that it is actually a human being, the Dr. Jones I presume Harris to be referring to. "Salutations," the doctor says, and I can already see this going downhill. He's dressed in a full white lab coat and thick glasses that only mildly enlarge small brown eyes, and atop his head is a surprising bush of short red curly hair.

"You!" Celia cries out, and once again her eyes are pink, a move that makes me jump back and even Harris lift an eyebrow in surprise.

"Jesus, Celia! Could you_ not_ threaten literally everyone we come across?"

"He's from the lab, Cyprus!"

Awkward silence, only broken by cough from Harris and some more wise words such as, "If you would care for me to explain, I would be more than happy to."

"Ya, that'd be great," Celia says, inching in front of me with her arm out._ Is she trying to protect me?_ I wonder._ From what?_

"If you would not find it derogatory," Jones pipes up, catching us both by surprise. " I would like to speak with the two newcomers myself, seeing as they already have their trust in you."

"I don't know if we trust him now," Celia says fiercely.

"Celia, seriously, give the guy a break," I say to her, lowering her arm. "Honestly, what else would we be doing right now without him? I'd much rather take my chances here than on the street again." The more I speak calmly with her, the more she relaxes, and just as a final measure I whisper, "And besides, if things get messy, I think we can take them together anyway." She nods, and the last of the pink vanishes from her eyes.

"Please continue," I say to Harris, the God of Patience, who stands there waiting.

"That would be just fine Jones, but first let us move to somewhere much more subtle. Not everyone feels at ease as you surrounded by your research," Harris comments, and steps across the length of the room and places his hand on a knob I didn't even notice was there, opening the door into a whole other section of the basement with light pouring out into the room now.

"Yes, of course. My gravest of apologizes," Jones replies, following him into the separate study along with Celia and I.

Now _this_ is more like it, or at least much more expected of an office in comparison to our previous arrangement. The walls are ornate and clean, patterned with the flor-de-lis and the ground hardwood instead of cement, the entire room well lit by a single chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Two comfortable looking chairs face towards the lone desk in the room, so modern its almost out of place in a room that looks like it hasn't been renovated in the last hundred years. Upon it is a single projected monitor and a few dusty looking books sitting in a stack on the edge next to a picture portrait facing away from us. Harris takes a seat behind his desk and looks longingly at that picture while Celia and I sit in the chairs across from him and Jones stands behind the desk with the director, and no one says anything for the longest time.

"Excuse me for intruding but-"

"Oh yes, do excuse me. You may speak freely Jones."

"My deepest gratitude," he bows at Harris and then turns to address the two of us. "I am Smith Jones, a former employee of the corporation known as PECA, stationed at the Apex Complex exactly three miles south of where we are now. I was there in order to aid in the covert operations being conducted on children ages-"

"Jones, you're going to scare them away if you talk like that. Please try and make your point," Harris interrupts.

"Apologizes," the man says nervously and bows again, "In effect, I eventually resigned from my position at the facility under the pretense of both ethical misconduct being performed there and an inability to conduct mechanical research as freely as needed in order to manufacture my own inventions."

"You're own inventions?" Celia comments, which would get annoying by now but I'm honestly just glad she's not threatening to turn anyone's brains into scrambled eggs anymore. I feel like we're really making progress with her.

"Precisely. If you would like I could showcase some of my work for you in the near future!" Jones exclaims, visibly changing emotions for the first time from business-like to excited like a small child about to show Mommy the pretty scribble he did.

"In due time," Harris says, reigning the three-year-old at heart doctor back in.

"Right, right. Anyway, my point was that at the juncture of my departure, Mr. Friedman here was already a very well-known acquaintance of mine, so I set out to gather his insight on what I should do about my new unemployed situation, to in which he took me under his wing and lets me stay here and conduct my research as I please. Very simple, really."

"So what is your plan, Mr. Friedman, sir?" Celia asks, apparently accepting all Jones has to say. Knowing her, she won't ever completely trust the man I'm sure, but at least we have a mild sense of diplomacy being held now.

"Well, no matter what you plan to do from here on out, there is one thing that is required, and that is for you two to have your ELITE reinstalled."

'Re-installed' is a pretty vague way of putting it, and from the looks of it Celia is already filling the blanks in her mind as her eyes widen a bit. "W-what does that mean?"

"In order for you to fit in seamlessly, even if you're not planning the train, you must have an ELITE. It is especially important if you do plan to train for it is required to have an Elite rank. Dr. Jones here, being an expert on the subject, can easily provide you with custom ELITE at no charge," Harris says, adding "And no pain."

"Wait, won't that make it so PECA can just track us easier?" I ask.

"That's the custom part, my friend. Such attributes of the ELITE are programmed into them, and as such, can be omitted or removed be a professional. As Jones was speaking of before, one of his experiments is on a remodeled ELITE."

"Wait, so we're just going to be lab rats again?"

"These have been fully tested and proven highly functional. No risk guarantee."

"And after that?"

"After the chips are installed, we can retire for the night to my home where we can discuss the matter in greater detail and you, my young companions, can get some rest. Does this sound like a fair plan?"

"So all we came here for were some stinking chips?" I ask him, a little underwhelmed by the whole thing.

"I believe it will be of more importance to you than you may understand right now, but if you wish to oversimplify things, yes, that is precisely why we came here. And so you could witness the gym, of course."

I look over at Celia to get her take, but she just sits mildly content and doesn't say anything else. "Well, let's get this over with then."

* * *

><p>It's kinda nice, that first moment when you flop on a bed after literally not being able to remember the last time you did so. For that whole second or two as you sink into the fluffy comforter, it's like the whole world just takes a break from being a dick and lets you relax. Soon enough though, the life is back in full force in the form of a sharp pain on the back of my neck, causing me to nearly jump off the bed. "OW!" I yell, rubbing the spot on my neck where Jones put our new ELITEs.<p>

It wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Jones actually explained the entire process to us beforehand and how the bloody things work.

"Scientists discovered, through intensive study and experimentation that Pokemon and Humans both had what would be called "safe guard" against using their abilities whenever they pleased, or at least not to full capacity. The ability to perform and the intensity of each ability able to be cast were in directly correlation to the amount and type of hormones within one's body. For example, the more adrenaline signals being sent to the brain, the stronger a physical attack will be, which is why trainers are usually not as strong during practice as they are during a fight, and also why the intensity of a fight may increase the longer it goes on. Adrenaline is certainly not the only catalyst, as defensive moves such as Harden can be cast at any time, but are most affective when afraid and others such as sleep abilities or Calm Mind most affective under Oxycontin. As it is right now, we do not have information on every single hormone to move correlation and their effectiveness, so we do not know how to take control of _every_ ability, but it is a fairly comprehensive study. Such so that is it well known physical fighters are better suited as males because of their testosterone levels while Special abilities having to do with the mind are better implemented by women for their estrogen."

"Um, excuse me but when did this turn into Sex Ed?" I ask him.

"Oh, well, I, um-," he stutters.

"Don't bully the guy just because he has scientific proof girls are smarter than guys," Celia retorts with a cocky grin.

"Well, I didn't-"

"Oh, next you'll tell me they mature before guys do, too, or some shit."

"Excuse me bu-"

"We don't need Pokemon science to prove that, idiot. We have you!"

"What did you just-!?" I begin, but Jones stamps his foot and says, "_If you please_, I would like to move _forward_ with the discussion. Harris just sits in his desk and smiles at us as if this is all rather amusing and he sees no reason to have it end.

"We're sorry," Celia and I both say.

Jones says, "_Thank_ you. Now, if you do not mind, before the reinstallation I would like to know exactly what your spirit Pokemon are."

"We don't know," I answer him. "All we do know is she's Grass and Psychic and I'm a Ghost that can fly."

Jones raises his eyebrows even before I'm done speaking, and its almost frightening the way his entire eye grows from the magnification of his glasses, but before he says anything, Celia cuts in. "Actually, I do have an idea of what it may be."

"Yes?" Jones eggs her on.

"Well, there is only one common kind of Grass and Psychic combination, and that's and Exeggcute, or its evolved form Exeggcutor. As for Cyprus, even though Levitate is a common attribute of Ghosts, he has the ability to Fly, which is only possible by a Driftloon, or Driftblim." After dumping this complex exposition on us, Celia leans back in her chair and lifts her eyebrow haughtily at me as if to say _Now about that girls being smarter than guys thing_.

The more she talks though, the more Jones's face returns to its normal, always slightly unfocused expression, and he just nods and Mhmms a bit. "Mhmm, yes, mhmm. You're right, I suppose that would be a much more logical answer."

"Hold up!" I cry out though. "Are you trying to tell me I'm that friggin cutesy-BALLOON THING? That's a Ghost-type?"

"Yep," Celia says, smiling only mildly sinisterly. "That and Flying. A bit anti-climactic for our Ruler of the World Hero Boy?"

"How are we supposed to become greatest team in the world as a balloon and a pile of eggs!?" I cry in exasperation.

"I'm glad to see you've brushed up on your knowledge lately, Cyprus, but get a clue. It's not the _look_ of the Pokemon that matters, it's the composition. Grass and Psychic type is a pretty good combination of abilities, even if it has a laundry list of weaknesses. In the case of a Flying and Ghost type, that gives you three types that are totally in-effective against you; Fighting, Normal, _and_ Ground."

"But aren't their personalities supposed to fit ours?" I inquire further, already falling into the stages of grief over my dreams of all the chicks in my newfound Ghost-type Fan club.

**Stage One: Denial.**

"Maybe it just shows off your feminine side," Celia teases.

**Stage Two: Anger**

"THIS FREAKING SUCKS!" I might have said some other things too that Im not exactly proud of.

**Stage Three: Bargaining**

"Dude, can't we just agree that like we at least _pretend_ I'm something awesome? I mean, I wanted to be like, I don't know, a fucking GARINTINA if I was going to be any Ghost-type!

"Don't be stupid, Cyprus. No matter how strong PECA is, they will never be able to capture the legendaries and do the same thing they did to all the other Pokemon. Besides, being the host to a Legendary would be impossible, because of the immense power they hold. They would destroy the mind and body of the host instantly, especially ones like Garintina."

Celia presses the red button nukes my hopes and dreams.

**Stage Four: Depression**

"This… freaking … sucks." I moan into my chest.

Jones cuts in. "She's probably right though in her assumptions. For now, we will have to assume that you are indeed of those two spirits.

I don't feel like a ever reached Acceptance.

Later, after the procedure (which all he did was cut into the same spot and insert new chips. We even just remained in the same seats while he did it. "They attach themselves to a few nerves within the spinal cord, without any pain at all." Of course, Celia still managed to squirm the entire time) Harris drove us to his home. Or at least, had us driven there with him. To neither Celia nor my surprise, he owns a rather nice mansion house in an upscale neighborhood across town ("I suppose that's one of the positive effects of being with the guys with the money," was all Harris said on the subject). Upon arriving at the lavish milk-white estate, Harris showed us each our own bedrooms and then immediately invited us to come dine with him, as he figured we were both a bit hungry from the day's events (to which we both noticed we were famished. Fighting evil REALLY puts a dent in your stomach). Light chat was made over a ready-made meal about nothing important until, out of the blue, Celia asks, "Why are you doing this for us? You never really explained to us why you're with PECA. From the beginning, if you please."

"From the beginning then, eh? Well, this should be familiar to you then: five years ago, my son was taken by PECA," he begins. "I was the one that gave him up, and I am the one to regret it every day."

"Woah woah, wait! That's the beginning!? Why didn't you just tell us that in the first place?" I burst out.

"Do you believe it would have been appropriate to begin with that subject?" he asks calmly.

"I mean, we might've trusted you a whole lot sooner!"

"I do not seek your pity or aid over the subject," he continues. "Which is one of the reasons I did not bring it up in the first place. The sole reason I am part of PECA, as it is, and the reason I am in New Pallet, is all in order to seek out my son again. When I say I am a part of PECA, I do not mean for this to imply I am necessarily a in agreement with what they stand for. I understand what is going on at the Apex Complex, and while I do not hear of any brutality in the situation, that does not imply I enjoy the idea of them keeping children as test subjects."

"So you think your son is there?" I ask him.

"I am positive, seeing as there are no other formal operations of the same likeness going on anywhere else in Issho. As such, I have waited here, in hopes that one day he would be sent first through New Pallet, and if I was lucky, become a regular here. In the meantime, I wished to aid any of the recruits that came through here, whether it be through accepted methods or, like yourself, a little more unorthodox. When I was informed that two young adults had escaped the complex, it was rather exciting actually. When I heard about the two of you fighting in the park, I was relieved to know you were okay and immediately sought you out."

"Why?" Celia asks, her tone expressionless.

"Why did I seek you out? Simple really; I knew that, in this world, even with your immense skill as it is, you would not have lasted too terribly long in a city under total PECA control. Making it appear as if this was all just 'part of the plan', which included meeting myself and beginning your legitimate training anyway, was the best course of action, and if we make a showcase of your skill, they will most likely choose not to take you back. I know, from the experiences you've both had of late, that trusting anyone other than each other is terribly risky business, so I will not expect any less than your highest skepticism. That does not mean I can't aid you."

"But why?" Celia presses further, "What do we have to do with your son?" Under Celia's heated interrogation, I almost feel bad for Harris, but if anyone can take it it's him, so I wait to see how long he lets this continue.

"For the reason that it gives solace to and old man who will regret his actions for the rest of his life", he says in very finite way that signals that is really the end all and be all. And either he's a really good actor, I'm really gullible, or he's telling the truth from the heart.

I guess Celia finally banks on the latter, because she's at least a little nicer when she speaks up again. "Alright, then. Well, could you please explain why Dr. Jones is here then?"

"Ah, yes, excuse me for I was just about to get to that. My companion was a man of great integrity that I knew upon my initiation into PECA. Actually, you could say he has been my messenger all this time, or even my spy, so to say." This actually makes Harris smile, as if the thought of such employment was only a recent thought that had come to him. "He was the one to inform me of the progression of the 'experiment', its nature, and the like."

"But he quit," Celia says.

"Indeed, and now you know where he has arrived at," Harris replies.

"What made him trust you with all that information though?"

"That is another positive aspect of being on the same side, I suppose. It's not as if I am truly an enemy to PECA anyway. It's more as if I sit on the safer side of the fence."

"Don't you think that's selfish?" Celia says, "Working with the same people that took your son?"

"Maybe it is, or maybe it is not, for it's not as if I have made waves on either side until now. You know my motives, so you may choose to see me as you wish, but I don't believe it makes a difference as it is right now. We're all technically on the side of PECA to begin with if you think about it, except for those who choose to stay Normal, and as you're learning that is becoming a dying form, showcased by our friend here now, Cyprus."

"I can't say that was totally my choice," I say to him, and he nods politely.

"I understand", he says, "and I'm sure given the choice you probably would have gone with your heart, but you see that PECA isn't exactly giving us the option anymore."

For the first time in what seems like all day, both Celia and I are quiet and have nothing new to say or inquire. Really it's near impossible to put together the immense amount of THINGS that are happening now. All these new people with their own stories coming together now, all this stuff about PECA and training and the ELITE. Why is it all so sudden?

Following dinner, he allows the both of us to retire to our bedrooms. Celia and I walk together to the hallway our rooms are on, the pair perfectly parallel to one another. When we reach our doors, neither of us open them and retreat into the quiet, but neither of us turn to speak to one another either. We both just stand there together, side by side, saying nothing.

So I decide to change that. "Do you trust me, Celia?" I ask her, not really looking at her.

Without looking my way either, she says, "You're the only one I do trust, Cyprus."

Somewhere within the house, a clock ticks loudly, seconds floating by, and they feel as if they get slower and slower between us. I look over at her, and she looks up at me for moment.

"I guess this will work out then."

"Ya", she says warily, not really here nor there, "I guess so. Goodnight, Cyprus."

"Wai-", but I can't even get another word out before she's snuck into her room, leaving me with the loud, harsh ticks of time marching on.

At least, that what happened, all many hours ago. It's now late at night, after showering and turning on the TV for a while, but even when I thought I'd find something good, my mind would drift away again to all the events of the day, until the moon was the only source of light left inside my room. It felt like a perfect little hotel suite like this, almost just oversized, with one large bed and one large TV projection on the wall and large windows covering the wall and a door connected to a large bathroom with a large tub and shower, and a number of large books on top of the only small thing in the room, the bed side table, with a telephone placed aside the books. _At least it's homey_ I think, and realize I'm really falling behind on my sarcastic thoughts quota. But honestly, I'm too overwhelmed to be myself right now. All I do is lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling and think about PECA, about Ghosts, about gyms, about Harris and Jones and Zero, and even about Celia.

And then there's a knock at my door. _Who in the blazes at this hour?_ I think to myself, and then hear a girl's voice say, "It's just me."

Celia.

The bed creaks a bit as I lift myself off of it and open the door. Just as I thought, who I presume to be the only girl in the house, Celia, but this time in pure white silk PJs that button up and her green hair done in a braid, hanging off her shoulder. "I wanted to talk in private."

"How did you know I would be awake?" I ask her.

"Who could sleep at a time like this?" she retorts and lets herself in.

I choose to keep whatever ounce of sarcasm I have left and attempt some decency instead. "Would you like me to turn the light back on?"

"No, I like it like this," she says, and flops onto my bed the exact same way I did not long ago. _Mattress Appreciation Buddies_ I notice and smirk, and even in the dim moonlight Celia manages to see and snap at me," What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing nothing, geez. Aren't you weak to Dark though?"

"There's hope for you yet. Yes you're right, I am, and a great many Psychics are afraid of the dark, but honestly I don't mind. How else would you get to enjoy this pretty moon?" she says, looking out the window at the moon sitting loftily in the sky. "Besides, you're weak to it, too, in that case."

"Guess you're right," I say and sit down beside her, and she manages to sit up and look at me. "What's up?" I ask.

"I came to say I'm sorry, for one."

"What for?"

"Earlier. At the gym. When I ... I pushed you about not wanting to fight. I'm sure I've pushed you about it all day actually, so here. I am sorry, Cyprus. If you don't want to train, then we won't."

"We? What's with this we business again?" I say teasingly to her, to which she looks angrily at me and says, "I just apologized to you and you're going to make a joke now?"

"Haha, calm down Celia!" I say through my laughter. "Can't you tell that means apology accepted? But still, why we? You can do whatever you want."

"Ya well..." she trails off. "I've been thinking... we'd be doing exactly what they wanted us to do, right?"

"Ya, I guess so."

"What's the point of that? To escape them just so we can go keep playing their game?"

"You were pretty confident about it earlier," I point out. "And I thought I'd be the one having second thoughts."

She sighs. "I guess it was just because that's how I've been raised, you could say. Always choose fight over flight. You can think, but think about fighting. Battling. When all you know is about well, freaking fighting, imagining doing anything else isn't even natural."

"So what makes you think otherwise?"

"Because of you. You think for yourself. You make your own decisions, and, a lot of the time, you choose not to care what others think. That's so cool to me. I mean, I never really had any friends before, you can imagine. We all existed _against_ each other. I'm not used... not used to that sort of thing anymore. Having a friend." With that, she looks up at me, and my heart skips a beat. She can be really deep when she wants to be, and it's getting to me. The whole silk-Pjs-plus-moonlight-combo isn't helping things either. "Cyprus, could we-"

Then the phone rings.

We both look at it. It keeps ringing. We leave it alone. Probably for Harris.

It keeps ringing. And then it stops. We both look at each other. "You were-"

The phone starts ringing again. And keeps ringing. "Christ," I mutter under my breathe and get off the bed to answer it. Picking up the phone, I frustratedly ask, "What do you want?"

"Hello, Cyprus."

It's a man's voice. Deep, vaguely familiar. Is it from before? Would I remember voices from before?

"Who is this?" I ask, and Celia comes and stands next to me, looking questioningly at the phone in my hand.

"We've met before, you know. I'm sure you recognize my voice. Just in case, here's another thing you'll recognize."

Not even a sound comes out of my mouth before a beam of white light flies through the window, through my body and a thunderous crack as it hits the lamp on the other table, disintegrating it. Celia jumps back from me and cowers, letting out a high squeak but managing not to scream. Me, on the other hand, well...

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM MAN?" I yell into the phone.

"Oh, come now, you are perfectly safe, don't you see? Just as you were before. Don't you remember? It's only been one day."

I do remember. That same feeling. A beam of white light, flying through my body. And falling.

"You." I whisper into the phone.

"You've caught on, I see. Yes, I am Dr. Vincenzo, the same as before. I see you've become quite comfortable since your departure from our fine facility. How have our demonstrations of the Type-Refractors been for you? They're the first sort of gun related technology since the Pokemon genome days, you know? Produce a beam of energy worth 500 damage of whatever type you set it to. Weaknesses and strengths still apply, which is the most ingenious part. That was a bolt of pure Normal energy just now, actually."

"How the hell did you find us?" I growl at him.

"Oh I see, you're one to get right to the heart of the matter then. Well, I can at least inform you that it is indeed NOT due to those silly new ELITE you got. Whoever your friends are that programmed the things did an awfully fine job of making them virtually untraceable. Probably that mutineer Dr. Jones, am I right?"

"Screw you."

"I'm happy to hear you have not lost your natural charm, Mr. Cyprus. Seeing as it is though, I DO indeed know where you are, and I don't think it need be further proven that I will always know where you are. There is no reason to hide."

"What. Do. You. Want?"

"Simply, really! I want you to stick with the plan."

"The plan?"

"Become a trainer. Make a team. Obtain the eight badges. Get within the top 100. Become Zero. The plan. Or the girl, either one. I really don't care."

"Why us?"

"Look who's the man with all the questions! You're lucky I have a five question limit with all my clients. Well, you were the first to escape! That was the first step of the plan, after all. Anyone who was strong enough to escape THAT cesspool was SURELY worthy to become Zero. It's the perfect final exam before you go into the real world!"

"You're crazy, you know that? Keeping kids locked up like that."

"You will understand in due time."

"Fuck off. I don't care what you do to me. I'm not doing your shit."

"Fine, in that case-," and I hear him speaking outside the mike but I can't hear what he's saying. I look over a Celia like **_This is bad-_** and see a bright purple dot trained on her head.

"What? What's wrong, Cyprus?" she asks frantically as my face distorts to pure terror.

"DONT YOU DARE!" I yell into the phone then.

"I see we understand the terms of our agreement then. Why don't you hand the phone to the girl?"

As much as it makes part of my body scream in hatred, I obediently give the phone to Celia. During their entire conversation, she remains solemn and only nods and mumbles, except for one moment when she look at me, to which her face takes on the same terrified look as mine, for I'm sure the same reasons. Finally, she hands it back to me and I put it to my ear.

"It's great doing business with you, Mr. Cyprus." And the call ends.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yes, indeed, it took me one week to write a chapter totaling barely 5000 words and then one weekend to write a chapter that's IN THE EIGHT THOUSANDS! I know its weird, but I thought I owed it to you guys to keep this thing going. YES THERE WAS MORE TALKING but I felt it went better this time. And by better, I mean more sarcasm on Cyprus's part!<strong>

**Anyway!**

**NEXT TIME: THE FIRST GYM BATTLE! Ya, this fic has those! It only took us five chapters to get there!**

_**Editors Note: Eight thousand words I had to scroll through and edit with this awesome, jerkass writer yelling at me to hurry up and finish editing. It's not my fault you don't know where to properly put commas and that I need food to survive.**_

**AN: Shut up and spell check! **


	6. Friday Night Lights

_**Zero**_

**Friday Night Lights!**

Once again, I find myself falling. I seem to be doing that a lot lately, better than I manage to do anything else even. Literally half of these chapters have now transitioned with me falling off shit. Might as well just let it happen. I close my eyes and think back, exactly how I got here, and how not even an hour ago could I have planned for this...

Imagine yourself a Rocky-esque training montage that includes me, Cyprus, kicking ass, phasing through walls, dominating all my opponents, wearing a sick cape, bathing in the tears of my enemies, and general awesomeness like that for a week.

"Cyprus, you're zoning out _AGAIN_!"

WHACK!

Then forget about all that and substitute me flying into the wall of the New Pallet Gym via a Vine Whip registered by Celia herself. "Pay attention!"

"Geez, that doesn't mean you have to get so rough" I say as I stand back up, rubbing out the crick in my neck.

"Oh, hush! I know that didn't hurt you at all" she says, getting all huffy again.

She's right though. Besides learning new moves and making sure I study all the stats and such of each type v. type (all_ veeerrryy_ important to the well-being of a trainer, she says), I've also had to learn how to take a hit. In general, getting by a move you're resistant to was like getting pegged in the chest with a foam football. Anything neutral was like getting hit by baseball to the forehead. Anything super effective was the equivalent of getting a shotgun to the face at point blank range. And of course, going through _that_ form of training is much more enjoyable for the sadistic Celia than for me.

"Get up already!" she yells at me, stomping her foot, and just like that another vine shoots out of the ground between my feet. In one quick move I have to jump out of the way as the towering plant crashes down just where I was standing. "Hey, wait!", I yell at her, "I-I'm not ready!"

Even as it is, I can't say that we haven't made progress. To the surprise of the both of us, my Elite rank started in the 500,000s, pretty high considering the multiple millions of trainers out there. "Don't be too surprised", Harris had said at the time when we told him, "because if you think about it, you're already above every Normaland Fighter for that matter. Plus, I believe it is well aware of your ability. I believe it to be quite rightfully earned, and something you should go prove yourself." After informing him of the phone call from Dr. Vincenzo and the following death threats, along with our mission to become trainers, Harris managed to stay stoic as ever. "Yes, I should have thought it would come to this. Well, it at least seems as if the both of you have made up your minds on the subject, so I can only give you my fullest support and the best of luck." Most of my training was done with Celia, she acting as both my team member and mentor. Unfortunately, the same rigorous training style she was subject to rubs off in her own teaching.

"No one is going to care when _you're_ ready, Cyprus", she continues to berate me as the giant vine sweeps towards me, water splashing my face as I hit the deck to avoid full-on collision. Just because I'm resistant to her Grass attacks doesn't make it any more fun to get hit by. "Which means you have to be ready _at all _times", she continues.

I always felt bad in these situations though. It's not that I didn't know any moves or how to use them. Celia, in one of her few moments of praise, said I had a lot of natural ability, and that the strongest part of a trainer was their control of their power. Which was great and all, except for the distinct knowledge that nearly any move I did on her would be super effective, and my favorite past-time was certainly not shooting pretty girls with shotguns.

"Don't you think this is a bit much though!? We're just training Celia!" I yell at her from the ground, right before a dense shadow covers me with just enough warning for me to roll out of the way. The thick vine slams into the ground again, torrents of water soaking through my clothes. _This is getting just a bit ridiculous._

Other than her though, i had been fighting with a few of the other trainers. Actually, most of them _wanted_ to fight against the Ghost, and it seemed like the longer I stayed here, the more people came by the gym hoping to battle against me, I somehow having become a bit of an overnight celebrity in the area. I didn't take many on though, seeing as the majority of them were much more skilled and had been doing this a hell of a lot longer than I had. Still, that didn't mean I lost every time, and even the ones I did people would congratulate me and say it was a good match. I could never tell if they were being serious or not.

"I'm so tired of you going easy just because you think we're training!", she yells at me. The vine she summoned thrashes around harder than before, almost as if it is enraged at not having smashed my face in yet. "Get serious!", she screams at me.

"Would you quit it!?", I yell, and just like that arc my arm and say, "Ominous Wind!" Layers of shadow envelop my arm, and in the same instant a strong blast of wind blows fiercely knocks Celia on her back. Once she's unfocused, the vine previously giving me such trouble recedes back into the ground, the sand that makes up the entirety of the floor falling back into place as if it hadn't happened at all.

The frustration driving my attack quickly fades away. "Celia!" I cry out, quickly rushing to her side. "Are you ok!?"

Fortunately, she's already sitting up, shaking the water out of her hair. The both of us are breathing heavily, our clothes drenched in sweat and water from the floor of the gym where we normally practice, a feeling we both simply got used to. For the longest time neither of us say anything.

"You know, you're the only person who ever asks if I'm OK after a fight" she points out to break the silence.

"What, are you trying to say that's a bad thing?"

"It is fairly naïve, yes", she says, taking my hand to stand up, "Because trainers just have to get used to getting knocked around."

"Well, I'm sorry for looking out for my friends", I say a tad too bitter.

"No, it's... just different."

"Different is about as vague as you can be Celia."

"It just shows you think different is all, Cyprus. That's not necessarily a bad thing" she revises her previous statement, looking intensely at me.

"Sounds _great_" I respond on the sarcastic side.

"Look, Cy I-"

"I'm going to talk to Jones. He said he had something for me earlier." With that I turn and leave Celia standing there, a shadow of mild dejection across her face. _Whatever_ I think. _She'll be back to her normal, bossy self later._

Now that we'd gotten used to the gym within the last week, finding Harris's office wasn't hard at all. A certainly panel existed on the paved perimeter of the gym that was simply activated by stepping on it a certain way, and Harris was more than happy for us to inquire of his assistance from the office. That and Jones always had something new to try out or show off to us, and while a majority of the time we all said we were too busy to help him, going to check it out was probably a good enough excuse to take a break for now before Celia hounded me again.

Jones calls for my attention the instant I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Cyprus, my young friend! Come, come, I have something I'd appreciate if you partook in", he says, waving me over to the dark recesses of his 'office'. Besides the one bulb situated in the middle of the room, he does have a strong lamp giving off light onto whatever device he's working on now from his desk (which is actually just the flat top of a few stacked monitors and screens he has out of commission). Upon further inspection, I actually see that he's dismantling the PECA tablet device we let him have after a while, assuming that he would know more about it than we would.

"Is your ally with you?" he inquires without looking up from his precious project.

"Celia you mean? No, she's up top training as always."

"Oh, that's a shame. I thought for sure she'd want to see this."

"What's up?" I humor him, and in a moment he flicks his hand at one of the screens. Just like that, a model of a tall building appears on screen, including all the floor plans and layouts and so on. It takes me a moment to realize what it is.

"The Apex Complex" I say in surprise.

"Yes, indeed. The logistical analysis recording device you brought back was quite a fine recovery, you know. To my surprise, it still functions on the same networks and data systems that PECA is occupying."

"Meaning?" I ask him, not exactly fluent in geek-speak.

"Which mean that they haven't changed their models since your escape, which_ means_ that we have access to almost all possible data systems within their research facility straight from this here device."

"But you've torn it apart" I point out.

He waves a hand at me. "We don't need the GUI of such a mundane piece of equipment. All I needed was to take the same chip they use in conjunction with their personal high level clearance Elite system network and connect it to one of these computerized systems to get the same level of clearance."

"So I guess this is the part I ask you what you've found out and all."

"Precisely!" he exclaims, and proceeds to stare at me expectantly.

Jones doesn't pick up on sarcasm very well, which is hard for a person like me who's only form on communication is sarcasm. "What have you found out?" I ask.

"Nothing interesting at this moment!" he says excitedly. "Why are you hitting yourself again, Mr. Cyprus?" he asks of the proceeding face palm executed by yours truly.

"Why haven't you found anything?" I ask instead.

"Ah well, you see... I've been a bit, should you say, wrapped up with other... projects and the like."

"So procrastinating?"

"Now I wouldn't say-"

"What exactly is there to find anyway?"

"Well, besides knowledge of the both of your statuses and such, I was also hoping to aid in the reclaiming of your memories."

"Oh right?" I say, pausing a moment to check out the diagram on his monitor of the complex. Touching the monitor causes the display to turn a full 180 degrees, and you can even zoom in on specific rooms. It feels sort of mind blowing. "Hey, Jones."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you not to talk to Celia about this stuff too much?"

"And why ever not?"

"I just don't want her to get any false hope is all, ya know? She's pretty sensitive about this whole PECA thing and I'd like to just be able to focus on training and all right now."

"Whatever you please, Mr. Cyprus. But if I may say; even though I don't have much experience with the field of female psychology, I think it is worth noting she may become even more dysfunctional at the revelation of having anything kept from her."

"You got that right" I say with a chuckle," She can be just as stubborn as the best of them. But if it comes to that, just let me handle it, alright?"

"My trust lies in you. In the meantime, I will continue analysis, at least for the sake of Mr. Friedman and his son, as you well know."

"Speak of the devil" a familiar worn voice says as the man himself appears from his own study. "I was just about to ask for you company Cyprus."

"You need my help?" I ask him.

The panel slides out from above and Celia's legs covered in abnormally pink material I never get used to come bounding down the stairs. "Cyprus! Get back up here and stop lazing around!" she yells at me, and I shoot Jones a look for him to put away the screen, which he does with a single flick of his wrist.

"You're just like the Mom I never had" I grumble at her.

"Don't drop your depressing crap on me when we- Oh! Hello there, Mr. Friedman!"

"How many times must I tell you to just call me Harris?" he says without an inch of scolding in his voice, always seeming to be in a chipper mood when he sees us. "But it is a fine coincidence that you would join us, for I have something of great importance to inform the both of you of."

"What's up?"

"I have scheduled for the both of you to participate in a battle against the Gym Leaders."

"Harris!", I begin," that's-"

"Totally great news!" Celia exclaims.

"-totally crazy!", I finish, "We're not- I mean, _I'm not_ ready!"

"You sure have had me fooled lately by the way you preform out there."

"That doesn't mean I'm ready to face off against a Gym Leader!?"

"Cyprus", he says, placing a hand on my shoulder and getting on his _The world is in grave danger_ face that he uses to get me quiet, "As much as you may enjoy the comforts and security of this place soon you will have to move on if you ever want to finish this." He looks deep into my eyes as he says, "Just consider this a push to get you started."

Celia cuts in at this moment too, adding, "Besides, even if Harris here hadn't made plans for it, I sure would have soon! I'm ready to get moving!"

"Were either of you planning to ask me about this?" I say to the both of them, receiving dual shrugs.

"Not really", they say in unison.

They're more like my legal guardians than my friends, except I don't think anyone supposed to be guarding me would schedule me for David versus Goliath esque match ups.

"When's the battle planned for?"

"In about an hour" Harris says totally nonchalant.

"What!? Are you serious!?", I yell at him, "That's too soon! We-we don't even- like-!"

"I didn't want to give you too much time to waste getting depressed about it, so I decided to postpone informing you on the subject."

"Diabolical" I say under my breath, which makes both Celia and Harris laugh out loud. "And you!? How can you just take this all so casually, Celia!?"

"I'm excited to see you in action, Hero-Boy" she says with such a provacative wink, even if she were playing with kittens it'd seem dirty. I just roll my eyes at her and say, "Whatever. What's the plan then?"

"The two of you will participate in an official match between Gym Leaders Harlee and Sequoia at noon time today atop Basin 10" Harris informs the both of us. "Gym Leader Ty is out on business as it is right now, so it will only need to be a two-on-two match. If you succeed in defeating them both, you will earn the Shimmer Badge and move on to town of New Cerulean, located on the opposite shore of the Kanto sub-region."

"The Tentacruel and the Starmie then..." Celia speaks more to herself than to any of us in the room. "Alright. We need to go make plans, Hero Boy."

"Would it _kill _you to just call me Cyprus?" I groan.

She's already halfway up the stairs before she turns around and says, "Quit whining and just c'mon." I'm forced to follow in pursuit.

"Before you go, Mr. Cyprus", Jones calls out, "I wanted to run by you the fact that I have significant evidence due to the pattern of your training that you may in fact-"

"_Hurry up!" _Celia yells.

"I'm sorry Jones; you know how she is. Just tell me later all right?"

"It could aid in the outcome of your-", but the click of the panel closing cuts him off before he can finish his statement.

* * *

><p>"Do you really think we even have a chance?" I ask Celia as we scale the side of Basin 10, the tallest of the towering battlefields in the entire gym, and where the Gym Leaders accept their challengers. It was Celia's idea to climb up and check the place out before the battle, which seemed great and all when we were on the ground, but feels less and less so with each subsequent handhold we scale.<p>

"I wouldn't have accepted it if I didn't think so" she says above me.

"I didn't really get the impression we had a choice!"

"You keep thinking like that and you won't get anywhere, Hero Boy!" she says, and I'm really beginning to wonder when I'm going to start getting answers that don't sound like they're from a self-help book.

Looking down (which is always a bad idea in itself), I notice just how many people are standing around watching us both climb. _Great _I think. _We should've sold tickets. 'Come see the Girl Wonder and her Born Again Lackey get their Arses handed to them!' _Even without the added pressure of our ever resilient fans I feel nervous. This was going to _the real thing_. I'd have to get beat to the inch of my life before I actually lost, unlike training battles where you could just tap-out. And I was not looking forward to it.

"Aye!"

Spying up and around Celia, it looks like we've reached the top, or just barely, save the unshaven face of a guy without a shirt on standing over the edge peering down at the both of us like we're dust mites clinging onto his sparkling throne. "And wha'da you two pups think you's doin' infaltratin' our here domain?"

"Excuse me!" I call out. "I don't very well speak Pirate! Could you please repeat all that again, just in American this time?"

"You think you're a funny man here don'cha?" he says and starts to raise his foot. "Don't make me regret keelhaullin' you two's one bi-"

"Harlee!" a woman's voice calls out over the edge. The man harassing us, who I assume now to be Gym Leader Harlee, visibly pales and straightens into a crisp attention. "How many times to I have to tell you to quit giving our guests a hard time?" Behind Harlee appears a middle-aged woman with a look on her face I feel like Celia has given me far too many times. "And quit talking like a moron!" Oh ya, totally relatable.

Harlee is now visibly shaking, having not moved an inch from the solid pose he's taken other than the quivering of his mouth to stutter, "Y-yes m-m-ma'am, Sequoia, ma'am, just ple-please don't-"

"You don't get off easy with just apologizes, mister", she says very sternly. She raises one hand and I swear I hear the guy whimper just before she smacks him square across the face so hard it sends him flying off the side of the tower. Celia audibly gasps and the both of us watch him and his sparkling blue pants careen toward the floor, but before he reaches the bottom Celia looks up at Sequoia and starts speaking very flustered, "Miss, he really wasn't- I mean- Is he going to be ok?"

"Oh, don't you waste time worrying about him" she says, watching the man fall as well with only a slightly amused expression. "We aren't masters of the water for nothing, you know."

I, on the other hand, follow his fall all the way, and just as he nears the bottom, a massive pillar of water shoots just from under him and catches him mid-way. "Woah..." I breathe out, not even realizing I was holding my breath, and Sequoia just laughs. "If you can't tell, we've been through this before. Now come on, let me help you up."

Sticking out an arm, she grabs a hold of Celia and hauls her up, doing the same for me, and as if under a mutual agreement, we all take a moment to size each other up. She's a strong woman obviously, well accented by her full body spandex suit that looks like blue scales, standing nearly as tall as I am and giving off a permanently stern look that shows she's probably strong-willed and stubborn, but also reliable and calm. Her hair cascades like a dark blue river and her eyes are deep purple. _The Tentacruel_ I remember, Water and Poison type.

"I assume you two to be the young trainers planning to challenge us in today's match?" she asks of us when she finishes her own analysis.

"Well, I don't know how much of a _challenge _it'll be" I mumble, but Celia speaks up louder than I and says, "Yes we are, ma'am. It's an honor to meet you."

"You don't have to be so formal. I only act that way with Harlee because_ he_ acts like an imbecile with all of our opponents." Celia actually giggles at this, causing Sequoia to display a light smile. Though it doesn't look bad on her, it doesn't come across as something she does often.

"You're both a tad early though, I must say. We always attempt to be very cordial in our undertakings."

"We just thought to get familiar with the battleground beforehand" Celia says.

"Yes, I'm grateful to see you are both highly intelligent" Sequoia praises us, and Celia actually _blushes_. "Thank you very much, ma'am" she stammers, and I just continue to try to figure out where the brutal training side of her comes from this smitten face.

"Are you doting on our rivals _again_, Miss High and Mighty?" a familiar voice calls from over side of the basin, and we all look over to see the arms of Harlee pulling himself up over the edge. "It only hurts them more when they lose."

"I'd recommend you keep that useless mouth of yours shut if you want to remain _above_ sea level, Harlee" she retorts.

"Oh, just hush with all yer big talk" he says, puffing out his uncovered chest as he rights himself. "You and me both know you wouldn't be half this cocky if Ty were around."

"Well he's not, and whether you like it or not he put me in charge."

Harlee huffs and turns away from the three of us. "That was just one of his flaws in judgment. He obviously meant to put me in charge and I just happened to not be around." Then, he suddenly spins around and throws an accusing finger toward Sequoia in the heat of some astounding revelation. "Oryou seduced him, _didn't you_!? Used your womanly charms on him, or spiked his drinks! Oh, you're a sly wench, you are! How could I have let this happened right under my vigilant eye?" Harlee falls to his knees, "It was my duty to protect this gym, and I have failed. I... I'm sorry, Master Ty. I failed you."

Sequoia pinches the bridge of her nose and exhales, attempting to keep her careful composure around this guy, and I can't say I blame her. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Harlee." When all the theatrics are over and done, Sequoia addresses us with, "Well, now that you're here, feel free to look around or whatever you feel like you need to do to prepare. I gotta pull together that stupid excuse for a human over there."

"Thank you" Celia calls after her, and even I give off a slight wave and a "Thanks" before she's gone and wailed on Harlee again.

Honestly, there's not much to take in on top of Basin 10. It looks like a perfectly circlular about a hundred feet in diameter, the perimeter like a beach front all the way around, and it appears to get deeper the closer to the center it goes, right up to a lonely island right in the middle with one curved palm. Celia wades into the center, and at it's deepest point it only reaches her waist. _So about three feet deep _I take note of. We both climb up on the middle island and sit next to each other, looking up at the shimmering ceiling of the gym.

"Alright" Celia finally says. "We need to make a plan."

"Forfeit, right now" I offer.

"Maybe you should be named Zero. You know, for_ zero _confidence."

"Fine, here's another one; I'll distract the girl with my brooding masculinity while you seduce Harlee with your womanly charms to fight for us."

"Cyprus! Have you had a plan that doesn't involve manipulating other people _in your life?_"

"Hey, don't start with me about manipulating people!"

She looks at me in a way that says _I don't have time to prove how totally right I am to you_, and changes gears. "We need to agree whose's fighting who."

"I'm telling you right now I'm not going against that chick."

"And why ever not?"

"Have you _seen_ her? She's a powerhouse!" When all Celia does is manage to look more preturbed at me, I say, "I have a soft spot for women who can hold their own, all right?"

"Oh, so you're saying that a girl is stronger than you?" she teases me.

"I'm not playing your mind games right now. Besides, it makes perfect sense for me to fight against the Psychic guy."

Celia does a double take at me and then looks off at Harlee, still receiving Sequoia's verbal abuse. "Oh ya, I forgot the guy was the Psyhic."

"Is that weird?"

She shrugs and says, "No. It's not like men Psyhics are uncommon, it's just that usually women are better at sort of thing."

"Maybe he's just in touch with his feminine side" I remark, which makes Celia laugh out loud, something that always makes me feel like I did something very right in the world.

"It's totally possible, seeing as how protective he seems of the Gyarados."

"Hey", I turn towards Celia and ask, "Why do you call people by their Pokemon so much? They're still people ya know."

The face she makes then looks hurt and that one always manages to make me feel like I've failed miserably at girl speak. But she does at least give me an answer that makes me feel a little less like the jerk. "I'm sorry, Cyprus, you're right. It's just PECA rubbing off on me again."

"You mean they didn't even call you guys by your names?" I ask, shocked.

"I mean they did for a little while, but then it just became "The Psychic". All the other kids were just "The Fighter" or "The Golbat" and so on. I guess we just all got used to that."

"Are you sure they didn't just plain torture you while they were at it?"

The moment of personal introspection ends faster than it even begins though, Celia shaking her head and saying, "Look, this isn't going to help us at all right now. C'mon, get up. We've got training to do."

Just like I said. Back to her normal, bossy self.

* * *

><p>Thinking about it then, as I stand across from our opponents, we may have a chance. True, they have the higher ground with the island as their starting ground and the home team advantage, but from a logistical standpoint, we had the better type advantage. Even if they were more experience than us, the facts put us at about equal. I couldn't exactly figure out if this were fair or not, but I guess now wasn't the time to get sentimental.<p>

"Are the two of you ready?" Sequoia calls out, Harlee leaning against the tree next to her.

"Yes!" Celia calls out, and then turns to me. "Remember the plan?"

"Ya, I wait for the guy to attack me, get in close range, whoop him, and leave."

"Something like that" she says, and turns her attention back to battle. "I guess it's good enough."

"Initiate the battle then!" the gym leader calls out to us, both moving into a fighting stance.

"Gym Leaders Sequoia and Harlee", Celia calls out, "Cyprus and I hereby challen-"

"**HALT**!"

Once again, everything in the room goes quite, the booming voice filling up the entire space and grinding everything to a standstill. Celia doesn't even manage to close her mouth from her sentence, and both the Gym leaders look like they've just been caught in some nefarious plot. I peer over the side of the tower to see exactly where the voice came from, but can't even tell the different_ genders _of the trainers below, much less who each of them are. Everyone looks like they're turned towards one person though and I watch as someone moves from the entrance of the gym towards the very center of the room, wading amongst the basins. No one speaks or even continues battling below.

And then, to my surprise, the figure below seems to be... rising. It takes the longest time for me to realize that whoever it is is using the water itself to propel himself up along the side of the tower, not even bothering with the audacious climb. Soon it's quite clear to me the person that has shown up is a man, a rather muscular looking man at that, but with at least the decency to wear a shirt to work in much that same fashion as Sequoia's outfit. By the time he's at the top, the gushes of water settling him right next to the two of us, it's quite obvious this is Gym Leader Ty, the Gyarados.

"This Gym Battle is not sanctioned" he says in a bellowing firm voice, one that echoes loudly even when he's not yelling.

Sequoia starts to speak in our favor. "Actually, Ty, Harris was the one that-"

"Are you that new Ghost-type boy I hear is making a scene at my gym?" he asks me, arms still crossed across his table length chest as if in defiance of anyone else even possibly being equals to him.

"Ya, I mean, I guess so" I answer him. "I heard I'm the only one."

Without making any indication to whether this is a good enough answer or not, he turns back towards his two subordinates and asks, "Did you really plan on fighting against these two in an official Gym Battle?"

She attempts to answer him again but this time with a lot less confidence in her voice. Harlee simply cowers behind her. "That was the plan, Ty. Harris said it was alright."

"And if they somehow did come out victorious, did you plan on giving them the honor of the Shimmer Badge?"

"That's how it works, Ty."

Have to admit, she at least has some balls to talk to him the way she does.

Ty stands there for a long moment, staring at both Celia and I for so long that I start to worry we've literally blown his mind with our stupidity or something, but then he finally says, "You may not participate in a Gym Battle against the Gym Leaders."

"What?" Celia cries. "Why not!? We've worked so hard for this!"

"I admire your dedication and hard work, young lady", he says, "but I refuse to change the rules just because of your difference in species", and turns to stare me down at these words. "And the rules state in order to achieve the badge of a respective Gym, your team must defeat _each_ of the Gym Leaders."

"But you were gone, Ty!", Sequoia shouts. "And we didn't know-"

"Well I am here now, and that is all that matters. They may not battle without a proper team, and that is a requirement of _three_ people, something they obviously don't have." he says like a man that is used to having the final word.

_Well that's just great._ Honestly, I should be relieved right now. We don't have to participate in a stupid Gym Battle! It'll take at least another week for us to find someone to fight with us, someone to be able to battle with and interlock with our moves and stat types. Plenty of time to just ... just ...

I am disappointed though. I finally felt ready. Ready to move on and go other place and see other gyms and learn new things. Ready to maybe accept this destiny.

"I'll fight with them!"

Both Celia's and my head snap over the side of the basin, where a figure was climbing over. When he stands up, I immediately recognized him; it was the same guy who had tried to punch me the first time I came to the gym. Immediately he looks over at the two of us an flashes a confident grin and a thumbs up before saying again, "I'd be happy to join their team."

Celia and I are left speechless, but Ty regards him with the same vigilant poise he's had on since he entered the room. "And what reason do you have for wanting to aid these two?" he ask finally.

"It's not every day you get to fight alongside a Ghost!" he says cheerily and comes to stand besides us. "What's up, Cy-man. It's been awhile."

"Uh, hi, again" I say bluntly, still not able to really process exactly why this tank of a human being would ever want to be in any relation to us. Celia just stares up at him in the same confused manner.

"Alright, when are we getting this party started?" he says, shaking out his arms and legs like he's about to go on a brisk jog.

"Wait, wait, hold on" Celia interjects, holding up a finger towards Ty, whose stony face moves a fraction of an inch to indicate his grace. She grabs both of our arms and turns us into some football style huddle, and hisses at the newcomer, "What are you doing?"

"Helping out where I can" he replies, not at all affected by Celia's icy tone.

"And who even are you?"

"Name's Bruce, pretty lady. Celia I heard, right? Before we kick this off, I gotta know; are you two going steady?"

"How long have you even been training?", she inquires, continuing the interview process without comment.

"All my life!" he exclaims, causing us both to raise an eyebrow. "Started when I was like five throwing stones n' stuff. It was just destine to be I felt like."

"Whatever. Second of all", she continues, "what even are you?"

"Heatran, baby. Steel and Fire, a glorious combo if you ask me." I make a mental note of my failure in Placing at this point in time.

"Right, but you do know in that case you'd be totally weak against _all _these guys?"

"Look, lady", he stops bouncing around all the sudden and looks her straight in the eye, "I know what I'm doin', alright? Cyprus over there has earned my respect, and any friend of his is a friend of mine, so I don't wanna go trashin' this relationship. Just let me do my thing, and you'll do your thing, and we'll make it outta this one as a team. Right?" Bruce exudes a purely self-confident aura that, even if it seems borderline ignorant, makes you feel like you could do anything. Even Celia finally lays off and gives in to him and just sighs. "Whatever. Do what you want."

"Heck ya! Let's dance!" He goes in for a fist bump which I happily accept.

"So you accept him as your comrade?" Ty asks of us when Celia turns back around.

Celia just shrugs and says, "Ya, sure, if it'll get us to the badge."

"Then we accept your challenge-"

"Great!" I call out, trying to speed things up as I'm feeling a-

"-on one condition."

Double-damnit.

"I want to face off against the Ghost myself" Ty says, pointing straight at me.

"Me!? No! You're crazy! I'll-" but Celia slaps a hand over my mouth and says, "Fine. We'll do it." The moment that hand comes off my mouth I'm going a mile a minute, mouth wise. "Areyouliterallyinsanehe'sgoingtoKILLMEanditsgoingtobeallyourfaultanddoyouwantthattohappenbecauseIsureashelldontandHAVE YOU SEEN THE SIZE OF THAT GUY!?"

"Cyprus! Shut-up and listen to me!" Celia yells. "You're the best one to go against him anyway. Because you-"

"Celia. I swear to the lord you're a sadist."

With another very unsexy grunt she ignores me and speaks up again towards Ty.

"Gym Leaders Ty, Sequoia, and Harlee; we, Celia, Cyrpus, and Bruce, challenge you to a Gym Battle."

"We accept" Ty says with that thunderous voice of his and literally_ walks on water_ over to his team members, who stand in a triangle shape around the palm. _I'm literally fighting against Jesus _I realize. He turns to the three of us and speaks again, "The match will end whenever all members of either team are unable to battle any longer."

"Bruce, you just try and stall the Psy- Harlee as long as you can, okay?" Celia whispers. "I'll cover for you when I can."

"Totally got this, sister" he says with another thumbs up and races around the perimeter to get in front of Harlee.

"Cyprus" she turns towards me and all the sudden, taking my hands in hers. I can't even manage to stammer before she says "I know you can do this. All you have to do now is know you can too."

"Th-thanks", I say back, but she's already off to get in position in front of Sequoia, leaving me and my heart dissolving in my stomach.

"Ghost-type Cyprus; I, Ty the Gyarados challenge you to a Gym Battle" Ty calls out from me from across the water. "Let the match commence."

Holy Shit. Here we are. Prime time. No holds barred. Everything else fades away. This is the moment. All I gotta do is remember what Celia said.

_Battles still manage to go in a move by move fashion, but the battle won't start until you attack first. It's just an honor system the gym leaders live by. It gives you time to size up your opponent. Know them, know what their weaknesses are, what they may do, how to fight them. Imagine how the battle could play out in your head._

Ty. The Gyarados. Weak against only Electric and Rock she told me. We've been through this. Gyarados are large, so they are slow. It is likely I am quicker than he will be and will have first attacks.

_A good first move is to use any stat buffs you want, since no one is attacking. Some fights of legend started off with four or five stat buffs before the actual battle began between them._

Well, okay. "Endure!" I call out, a move that will allow it so I'll at least have 1 HP left no matter what attack he uses on me.

Ty nods, and then calls out in return "Rain Dance!" Clouds appear overhead, looking dark, full, and ready to burst, but only land on us a slight drizzle. _Boosts all Water-type moves_ I realize, and it's becoming clearer to me that it's not going to be just a brutal fist fight like it's been before; there's a true strategy going on here.

"ShadowBall!" I call out and shoot at him, and even as fast as if flies towards his chest he still manages to easily side step the dark projectile and say, "Dragon Dance!" He glows a tinge of purple for just a moment but it soon fades away.

I don't actually know what that does, but either way I don't like the sound of him getting any more edges against me. Using Fly (a passive ability now, Celia taught me, instead of a move), I glide straight over the water and Slash at Ty, my forearms becoming momentary razor blades, but he once again dodges my attack and shouts "Water Pulse!" At this range, the pulse of water he shoots from his arm is unavoidable, and sends me flying back, but the attack is oddly ineffective and I have enough consciousness to shoot another ShadowBall in his direction before crashing into the water.

Up in an instant, I feel slight satisfaction in the fact the attack did manage to hit him, obvious by the way he's holding his shoulder. But he's already back on the offensive. "Hydro Pump!", a literal column of water exploding from his palm which I narrowly jump out of the way of, back into the water. The column sweeps towards me still and all I can manage to think is to shoot another Shadow Ball at Ty, which he sidesteps like it's nothing, but it at least breaks the water torrent.

In attempt to make this a purely close range battle, I dive straight for him, again relying on Slash. He'll dodge and attempt to hit me with a Water Pulse or a Hydro Pump, but I'm still faster than him and avoid a majority of the attacks, those that land not even enough to faze me. On the flip side, any time I graze him with a swipe or a ShadowBall he doesn't even flinch, always remaining a full step out of my reach. Finally I attempt to pull out the big guns and yell, "Shadow Claw!" my entire arm materializing into a blade of black mist. Ty doesnt even raise an eyebrow at my bringing a knife to a fist fight, but merely backs clear out of the way of each of my jabs and swipes at him with the blade. On a particularly nasty strike he appears to nearly stumble back, and I move in for a fatal blow, but before I have a chance to bring down the hammer he brings down his foot and barks "Earthquake!" The ground under me shakes and I lose my footing as the sand sucks me into the ground. "Damnit!" I cry out, desperately trying to climb out of the ground, but by the time it ends I'm stuck waist deep . "Dragon Dance" Ty says again, the same purple aura intensifying, well aware I'm not going anywhere right now. _Shit, how can I get out of-_

Fortunately, Ty helps me out- with yet another Hydro Pump blasting me back into the water. Even with my apparent strength against Water-types, I'm starting to get worn out by his persistence.

"You're attack pattern is weak and ill-prepared" he shouts at me from the safety of the shore, "You fight desperately, without cunning. It is predictable. I had hoped for more of a challenge out of you."

"Shut up!" I shout back, and arc my arm once again. "Ominous Wind!"

Winds hollow around me, violently shaking the palm and even making the direction of the rain fall change course, all oddly satisfying. _No way to dodge this one_ I smirk.

To my dismay, the burly gym leader only sneers and then dives into the water.

"Damn it!" I say aloud and cease the attack, instead readying a ShadowBall. Because of the winds, the waters are still too violent for me to even see where he's gone. Desperately I attempt to wade back onto the island, only now realizing how heavily I'm breathing. _This guy is beyond anyone I've fought before_ I think. _And how in the hell did he become so fast?_

**CRASH**

"Hydro Pump!" is all I manage to hear before I'm swept away by a massive jet of water crashing into my side, sending me careening towards the edge of the arena. Quickly I try to stand back up, my whole body shaking, and in another last ditch effort I scream "Ominous Wind!"

But before I can even realize it, a gigantic wave is heading straight my way, towering over me. _He… he blocked it!_

I brace myself against the sand and concentrate all my might on holding back the monstrous wave. Maybe with enough wind force I can break the tide-

Then, through the center of the wave, Ty crashes through. But he doesn't… look right. His face is distorted… like a … a …

"Dragon **RAGE**!

-like a dragon. His entire body is wrapped in a bright purple aura, he and his massive wave careen towards me.

_How did he manage two attacks before me!? _And as I stand there, probably looking like a deer caught in headlights, I guess the insane amounts of adrenaline in my body knock everything into place, and I figure out what happened.

Dragon Dance. A move that increases the users Attack power and Speed. He'd been using it so many times that he was officially quicker than I was, even as a Gyarados. Even if he could never phase me with his strongest Water-type moves, all he had to do was bide his time… until this one, massive- **WHAM**

Its like getting hit with a shotgun to the face at point blank range.

And I tip, off, and over. The massive surf finishes the job, slamming into me, and I fall, over the edge.

So here I am again. Falling over the edge of stuff…

I don't feel like I have any strength left.

I failed.

How did I get out of this before, anyway?

Where have I been, doing this again?

Oh ya. With Celia.

Celia.

I hear her in my head. Exactly what she'd say.

"_Cyprus, you're zoning out _again_!"_

"_I'm excited to see you in action, Hero Boy."_

"_Cyprus, I know you can do this."_

_Fly._

The torrents of water fall past me. I'm left hovering in the air.

Thinking of her again, always fighting so hard, not just for herself, but for me too.

I may as well finish this. For her sake.

Slowly rising back up to the battleground, I see the other two, still in the heat of battle, holding their own. Harlee seems to be at wits end as Bruce lays on a succession of ruthless punches, undaunted by his opponents supposed advantage. Celia doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, and I can't say I'm not proud (and a little grateful) to be on the same side as they are.

_Now, where is that cocky son-of-a-_

I spot the bastard, slowly stalking his way through the water, towards… _Towards Celia!_ Suddenly he stops, and stands rigid save for the slow lifting of his arms, pointed at her. A white ball beings to materialize at the-

"PREDICTABLE MY ASS!" I yell at him, and before he can even turn around I pile drive my feet into his back, spring boarding off of him and sending him crashing into the ground.

"Aerial Ace, bitch!"

He turns furiously towards me and growls, "Why you rude-"

"SCARY FACE!" I yell, and thanking the Pokemon Gods I don't actually have to make one in order for the move to work. To my satisfaction, Ty becomes visibly disturbed, giving me just the opening I needed. He desperately raises his arms for another Hydro Pump, but I Slash at him, cutting right across his chest. "You annoying brat!" he growls at me, and diving right at me in a Body Slam-

And goes through me, landing face down in the water. I jump onto the land, slightly grinning as I do.

"I've been waiting to do this all day" I say, and put my hands together.

"**THUNDERBOLT**!"

It's super effective.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And so draws to a close the first arc of Zero (For the most part)! Heya, everyone, I'm back with a-vengeance! And after much debating and rewriting and self-editing, Im just releasing this pile of half-decentness into the internet voids! Sorry for the moderate dip in quality, I need to go read something more than shoddy other fanfics to regain that ability XD Almost feel bad now for having this sitting around on my computer for a week now practically finished... <strong>

**So this'll probably be the only time to make a call to action like this, but for all of you that have gotten this far in the story, I'd really appreciate it if you left a little sumthin' sumthin' that starts with Re and ends with a view! If you like this story, tell me! If you dont like it, tell me! (preferably why) Either way it makes my day. For all of you who have already reviewed/followed (shoutout to CountingSinfulStars in particular!), thanks for the self-esteem boost! It's what fuels this Train of thought and keeps it out of writers block.**

**NEXT TIME: CYPRUS IS A WHAT? For all of you how thought dumbass, you're halfway there. AND! The team goes out on a date! IN SOME RUINS! (I think. This script is really vague)**


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